The Betrayer
by StoryMaiden
Summary: Who were the people that were in Anubis House before the gang that we love from the show? How did their time and adventures there affect everything in the future? And what did Rufus have to do with everything that went on? HIATUS ENDS IN TWO WEEKS
1. House of Suitcases

Trudy placed the last plate at the end of the table and sighed contently. It had been a couple of months since she had laid that table and it was satisfying to see the start of a new year begin with those plates. They were still clean which was a rare thing with the students of Anubis House.

She carried the spare cutlery to the kitchen. To her surprise she found a suitcase dumped on the middle counter. Shaking her head in amusement, Trudy moved the bag to the floor. Why couldn't the boys just put their suitcases where they belonged? The kitchen was further away from the front door than their rooms!

Trudy wheeled the suitcase to the bedroom at the far end of the hall. Knocking quietly, she waited for someone to open it. When nobody did, she left it outside. She figured that the boys could sort their room out by themselves.

"Trudy!"

At her name, Trudy jumped. She walked into the living and looked around. Victor stood examining the coffee table. His beard was even more well-groomed than she remembered it which was a miracle.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "You shouldn't shout like that. My heart's all of a flutter."

"Where has my badger gone?" Victor asked.

"Ah, don't tell me you've forgotten already?"

Trudy walked over to Victor and patted him on the arm. Dust pounded off of it after each hit.

"You asked me to move it upstairs! I think it's an excellent idea. The fur goes everywhere and the kids always play around with it."

Grumbling under his breath, Victor left the room. Trudy shrugged at his normal reaction to being corrected. She never liked to ask about what he was mumbling about. Normally it resulted in a harsh look at the woman or a "don't you have work to do?"

The opening of the front door brought with it the clicking sound of wheels. Trudy hurried to the entrance hall to find Kestrel. Her auburn hair laid across her shoulders as she flitted her jade green eyes around the house. They jumped from the cellar door to the carved staircase to the room above the door where Victor was brooding. Finally, she spotted Trudy.

"Trudy!" she cried.

She dropped the small bag in her hand and hugged her house mother. Her perfume filled her with nostalgia, but it was nothing like the creak that the front door made as someone else entered. Trudy looked over Kestrel's shoulder at the woman who was wheeling two suitcases behind her.

"Are you Ebony?" Trudy asked. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Yep!" she grinned. "I couldn't not help Kessie with her bags. She's missed this place a lot! You should've heard the car journey here."

"Kestrel, sweetie. Why don't you go upstairs and find Lydia? I'm sure she's missed you dearly."

Kestrel nodded obediently and ran upstairs to find her friend. Her sister smiled after the girl until she was out of sight. As the smile vanished it was replaced with a frown.

"Can I talk to you in private before I leave?"

Trudy looked at Ebony. To her dismay, she looked like she was going to cry. Her eyes crinkled against the tears that were forming. Trudy immediately hooked onto her motherly instinct and hugged the woman. She didn't know the reason for the sudden tears, but she could guess what it was. This happened to a lot of families when taking their children back to boarding school. After all, they weren't going to see them for three or four months.

"If you want to leave now, I'm sure Kestrel will understand," Trudy attempted to comfort her.

"What? No, I'm not crying about that. It's about this."

Ebony unzipped the suitcase closest to her and took out a large plastic bottle. Trudy squinted to read the label.

"Ah," Trudy bit her lip. "Has it got worse?"

The only thing Ebony did was nod. She placed the medicine into Trudy's open hand. Wiping her eye, Ebony grimaced. Trudy felt her heart twinge. Even though she hadn't been through anything like some of the students had, she knew what it felt like when someone you loved was in pain.

Trudy put an arm around Ebony's neck and squeezed her tight.

"It'll get better eventually," she whispered. "With all of the new technology these days, they're bond to make Kestrel better one day."

"I better be going," Ebony mumbled into Trudy's blouse.

"Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea?"

"Us British and our tea," Ebony forced a smile. "But I need to get going. The, uh, traffic…"

"It's okay, sweetie."

Before Ebony could reach the door, Trudy heard a boy cursing from behind her. She turned to see Wylan sprawled on the floor next to the suitcase. His floppy brown hair covered his face, but Trudy suspected he was blushing furiously.

A laughing girl leaned on the doorframe. Her burgundy hair was tucked behind her ears to show off the studs and two silver rings that she sported. A diamond twinkled from her nose and Trudy found herself tutting as she noticed a new bar in her left ear. If she had taken the piercings out, Iris would definitely be the prettiest girl at Anubis.

Wylan kicked the suitcase towards Iris. Her laugh become a shriek as she fell down as well. They stared at each other and then started laughing even louder.

"Did you forget to mention something to me earlier?" Trudy asked, an eyebrow raised.

The two looked up at Trudy. Iris' cheeks were boiling this time, but Wylan was grinning sloppily.

"Of course not," he answered smoothly. "We're just messing about."

"Yeah," said Iris, breaking out of her shock. "This is normal for us."

Trudy grabbed Wylan by the arm to pull him up. Swishing his hair out of his face, he thanked her. Before Trudy got a chance to take Iris' arm, she was already standing up.

"Do you have any idea who this belongs to?" she asked.

"Nope," said Wylan.

"Do I look like I'd own that suitcase?" Iris mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Unfortunately not."

Trudy tried to hide her smile. It was amazing how some people acted up to adults. Well, those acts weren't going to get through her this year. Yes, there had been the incident with all of the scissors going missing and the occasional stolen cookie or two (or ten), but those hadn't hurt anyone. Not much anyway…

"Okay then," Trudy smiled.

Wylan's door closed behind the pair. Trudy looked down at her hand with the bottle of pills in it. She frowned before remembering what she was meant to be doing. In the kitchen was a cupboard only she was allowed to open. Trudy slipped the bottle in and locked it for good measure.

* * *

Nicci bounced down the school corridor with her flower crown jiggling along with her. The heels of her boots clicked against the floor in time to the music chiming into her ears from her headphones. This morning she had been in a show-off-the-tan-before-it-goes kind of mood so she adorned a white crop top and some denim shorts. However, when she landed in England she was shocked by how cold it was already, so now there was a grey cardigan over her outfit.

Passing a couple of teachers, Nicci smiled to each of them, acknowledging all of them with their first names. Daphne (Ms Andrews) had some new grey hairs showing at the roots of her hair which Nicci didn't want to tell her about. Howard (Mr Mason) dipped his head in her direction. Eric (Mr Sweet) murmured some Latin under his breath as he flicked through a leaflet.

Nicci's bounce slowed to a walk when she rounded the corner by the history classroom. She tried to keep her heel clicking to the volume of the pitter patter of the rain outside. A cough from inside the classroom meant she had failed.

She hurriedly fiddled around with her bag to find her portable cd player. At last she found it and clicked the stop button. Nicci looked up to Miss Devereaux's glare from behind her desk. Stacks of paper were already piled on it which surprised Nicci. The teacher had been in the school for under an hour and her desk was already flooded.

"Nicci," Miss Devereaux said sharply, "you need to get some new shoes. Those boots have never suited that outfit."

"But I like them," Nicci moaned. "If I'm on a seven-hour flight from America, surely I can wear what shoes I want. It was bad enough having to sit next to you. I wasn't going to wear those uncomfortable heels Mum bought me."

"I guess I have to kind of agree with you," she began to smile. "They are hideous."

The sisters laughed awkwardly. They stood there for a while, basking in their love-hate relationship until Nicci broke it.

"I should get going, Brooke," she said. "I told Francesca that I'd meet up with her in the drama studio."

Brooke raised an eyebrow at her younger sister.

"Really? Well, could you come round my room later? I'm cooking your favourite!"

"Chocolate? Raspberries? Milkshakes? What about those raspberries _and_ chocolate we had at that fair a month ago? They were so delicious! Or how about those pancakes I tried to make? Mmmm!"

"Or perhaps some sausages and mash?" Brooke smirked.

"Oh, that's okay too," Nicci grinned. "I'll see you tonight, then. Can I put my bag down?"

Brooke gestured towards a front desk for Nicci to dump her bag down. She put her headphones next to her cd player before leaving with the full blast of her boots' heels. It didn't take her long to reach the drama studio.

Francesca was rearranging pillows on the sofas. Her blonde hair was tied back into a high ponytail which hit her back every time she leaned over to grab a new cushion. She wore a cross between a sport kit and a hipster outfit. It looked nicer than it sounded.

"Francesca!" Nicci beamed.

The sport and drama teacher turned to see the young brunette. A new shine came to her face that Nicci hadn't seen before. Fran ran over to Nicci so that they could hug. To her surprise, Nicci felt herself lift off of the floor. She gently kicked Fran's knees as she spun around the room.

Eventually Nicci found the floor again. She collapsed into a sofa and laughed. Her flower crown dropped onto the floor next to her as her head hung over the back of the sofa. Francesca sat opposite her with a soft smile of her own.

"How did you manage to spin me like that?" Nicci spluttered after she managed to stop her laughter enough to talk.

"You must of lost weight," Francesca smiled. "Or I've grown stronger?"

"I definitely didn't lose any weight over the summer. It's a longer version of Christmas!"

Nicci narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Fran. There was something different about her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Is there something new about you?" she asked.

"My new glasses," Fran pushed them further up her nose, "or these new trainers?"

"Nope… it's something more… radiate."

"Radiate," the teacher repeated. "That's a weird choice of words."

"Come on, you can tell me!" Nicci urged.

Fran fingered the tassels of a little green cushion with pursed lips. Nicci blinked slowly at her, trying to show as much interest as possible. Her eyes began to sting before Francesca leaned forward slightly.

"You must promise not to tell anyone," she whispered.

Nicci nodded vigorously feeling as if she was about to be told a dreadful secret about someone she knew. She copied Fran by leaning in closer. Her teacher and friend cupped her hand to Nicci's ear.

"I'm in a relationship with someone."

That wasn't what Nicci expected. She jerked back, hitting Fran's arm in the process.

"Woah," Nicci said. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Shh!" Fran hushed. "I said it's a secret."

"But why does it have to be a secret?"

"Have you learnt _anything_ about the teachers here, Nicci? None of them seem to understand what 'getting it on' even means and that's _casual_ slang."

"Brooke would understand…"

The girls looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

"Well, speaking of the she-devil," Nicci said, "I have to get going. We're having sausages and mash together even though I've just put up with her for a couple of months constantly."

"Make sure to tell her Miss Abel says hi," Francesca waved.

Nicci picked her flower crown off of the floor and placed it gently onto her hair. She retraced her steps back to the history classroom. Taking a deep breath, she entered her sister's domain without being forced to for once. Nicci was determined to improve their relationship this year to something similar to Fran's. Brooke had never revealed a secret to her.

* * *

 **H** **ey guys! Thank you for reading the first chapter and an even bigger thank you to everyone that has submitted an OC. I've received some amazing characters and I know that they are going to get into a lot of adventures together.**

 **I have a few things to mention to avoid confusion. This story is set around 2005-ish so there aren't many electronics and stuff around. There are three new (old) staff: Miss Abel, Mr Mason and Miss Devereaux. If there's any other questions please PM me.**


	2. House of Laughter

The first thing that Wylan noticed when he entered Victor's office was the badger had been moved to behind his massive desk. Victor's fingers were tracing across Corbierre's sleek coal black feathers whose beady eye was trained on the door. Wylan coughed to gain his attention.

"Yes, what do you want?"

Wylan walked over to his desk and stood with his hands behind his back. Confidence shone from him which he hoped would gain him extra points towards his goal.

"It's the start of the year and we haven't seen anyone in ages," he began. "I thought a _social event_ would be a pretty good idea. We could perhaps…"

"No," was Victor's flat answer.

Some of Wylan's confidence vanished.

"You haven't heard what I was going to say!"

"No," was Victor's blunt reply.

"What was I gonna say then?"

"Let me guess," Victor straightened up. "Were you, by any chance, going to ask for a party to happen in my domain, possibly on Friday, with half the school attending? Because if that was your question, the answer is no."

Wylan deflated. Why did he have to end up with the toughest housemaster? It was just his luck.

"Go away," Victor said.

Knowing not to get on his bad side, Wylan left the office. Once he was out of sight, he slumped on the stairs. He closed his eyes to try to find another answer. It came right under his nose as a shadow clouded his vision.

Opening his eyes, he found a face grinning at him. It was like looking into a broken mirror that someone had placed upside down. Jesper was very similar to Wylan except for a few minor details. Jesper's hair reached his shoulders, his eyes were hazel and he was not interested in girls at all. On the other hand, Wylan's eyes were jade green, he had an olive complexion and he flirted more than a model whose job it was to flirt with the camera.

"Wonderboy!" Wylan shouted.

"Wailer!" Jesper yelled.

They hugged each other until they heard a sarcastic "ah" coming from the girls' corridor. Wylan turned around just in time to spot burgundy hair disappearing around the corner.

"That Iris really is starting to annoy me," Wylan moaned.

"Wailer," Jesper muttered under his breath.

"I'm not wailing," Wylan said.

"Nah, you're whining. Sorry mate, I should know that there is a _big_ difference."

"Ha ha," Wylan pretended to laugh. "Very funny. So when did you arrive?"

"Just now. Trudy said I'm not the last one here which is pretty good. Apparently Miss Devereaux is keeping Nicci captured at the school and Flynn and Ronan are arriving after dinner so it's just us tonight."

"Great! Just me, you and three girls chatting about 'girl stuff'," Wylan put bunny ears around it. "Jesper, can I ask you to do something?"

Jesper shifted uncomfortably under Wylan's persistent gaze. A few seconds passed before Wylan decided to take the silence as a "yes".

"Okay," he grinned, "what you have to do is ask Victor for a welcome back party."

"What?" Jesper exclaimed.

"Come on, roomie!" Wylan pleaded.

"I'm not one of your girlfriends…"

"I know that!"

"Fine," Jesper rolled his eyes, "but only if you give me your pudding…"

"Done!"

"For the rest of the week."

Wylan sighed in defeat. As his very Christian grandfather always recited, 'an eye for an eye'. Trying to be as over the top as possible, he let out a massive sigh, turned to look the other way and gave Jesper a tough handshake.

Jesper grimaced, but it turned into a smile before he walked up the stairs. The blinds in Victor's office were closed so Wylan couldn't see in. He followed Jesper to the door. When his friend knocked, he quickly stepped out of view.

Wylan crept to the door once it had shut. He quietly moved his ear to the door. Although it made no difference to what he could hear, it didn't matter for long. Victor jerked open his door and stared down at Wylan sprawled on the floor for the second time that day. However, he wasn't going to knock a man like Victor to the floor as easily as he could with Iris.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Sight." Victor spat down at the boy.

Jesper was close behind Wylan as they fled to the girls' corridor. They leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Do I still get the puddings?"

"No way in hell after that attempt!"

It took a while for Wylan to realise he could hear someone trying to hold back giggles. He whipped his head, causing some of his hair to blow in the sudden wind, to the end of the corridor. Immediately the door slammed.

"Girls," he fumed under his breath.

He ignored Jesper's own ragged laughs and marched to the door. Without bothering to knock, he pushed it open. The sight of the girls all crowded around Lydia's bed was sweet. They all faced away from the door except for the owner of the bed. Lydia sat on the covers, leaning lightly on her knees with her elbows. When she noticed Wylan shifting in the doorway, she looked up.

Not the slightest inkling of shame came to him as he watched Lydia's cheeks match the soft colour of her strawberry blonde hair. Instead he lapped it up like the girl was his oasis. Wylan's mouth tipped upwards just enough to gain a greater effect. Lydia's eyes skittered down to her knee that exposed a birth mark. By dipping her head, thick curly locks loosened from their position behind her hairband.

The tutting by the desk distracted Wylan from his prey. He reluctantly looked over at Iris and Kestrel's little barricade from him. A number of suitcases sat open in front of them, but only a couple of shirts were left in them. Kestrel had a soppy little smile, but Iris had her arms crossed. She raised an eyebrow at Wylan.

Without considering Wylan's dignity, Jesper pushed past him into the room. Luckily Wylan caught himself before falling. Third time lucky.

"Girls!" Jesper smiled. "How were your holidays?"

"Okay," Lydia murmured. "I went on a photography course in London and my mum took me to the Globe Theatre. We went to see…"

"That's brilliant," Jesper interrupted. "Could I talk to you later about it?"

Lydia looked a little taken aback, but nodded. Jesper smiled warmly at her before he turned to Kestrel.

"Kestrel," he said, "this is a matter of life and death. I desperately need your help."

Wylan walked closer to listen to the conversation about to unfold. What could be a matter of life and death so early into the school year? School hadn't even started yet so it couldn't be a last minute dash to finish homework.

"Wylan and I have got ourselves this little problem," Jesper continued. "We're trying to convince Victor to let us… have a social event on Friday, but he said something along the lines of 'no way in hell'! Seeing as you have your gift of persuasion, could you perhaps help us?"

"It's not a gift, Jesper," Kestrel said but Wylan could see that she appreciated his words. "I could help you though."

"Yes," Wylan cheered.

He threw an arm around Kestrel's neck. She squealed in shock and fell backwards into the desk. Moaning, she gripped her leg.

"That hurt!" she whined.

"Sorry," Wylan mumbled. "I got a bit…"

"Over excited," Iris finished.

"Exactly! We'll see you girls at dinner then. See ya!"

Wylan opened the door into the corridor. He turned to see Jesper saying something to the girls. They all burst out laughing before Jesper came out too. Puzzled, Wylan asked his friend what was so funny.

"You owe me a week's worth of puddings!"

Wylan moaned.

* * *

Flynn heard the sound of clinking knives and forks when he finally arrived at Anubis House. It had been a very boring day of travelling and he couldn't wait to reach his room. He left his suitcase by the front door and walked over to the door leading to the living room. Carefully he peeped through the crack between the door and wall to spy on the rest of the Anubis residents.

Five people were crowded around one end of the dining table. Flynn watched Lydia and Kestrel's hair flow down the back of the chairs, bobbing with each spoonful they had. Jesper and Wylan sat opposite them while Iris sat at the head of the table. They were all cramming lasagne into their mouths.

Flynn felt salvia begin to form in his mouth at the thought of Trudy's cooking. It was always packed with flavour, but she knew the right amount to put in before it became overloaded. He closed his eyes to picture what he thought could be the taste. Flynn's tongue twisted in his mouth at the thought.

He was surprised that he wasn't the last one there. Normally he was always late to school due to the sheer amount of paperwork that nobody liked to fill out. There was also the amount of train switching he had to do and the trek to Anubis House. Flynn never trusted taxi drivers.

His suitcase wasn't the only one in the entrance hall. A dull grey one stood next to the cellar door. There weren't any labels or keyrings that made it stand out. Flynn guessed that it belonged to one of the boys and didn't question it as much as he should've.

Grabbing his own suitcase, Flynn walked to his room opposite the kitchen. He opened the door to find it empty except for some bare furniture. It looked like Ronan wasn't there yet.

The bed on the left was where Flynn placed his suitcase. He had unpacked everything in minutes so he decided to see if there was any leftover lasagne. If there wasn't, he was determined to make some himself.

When Flynn entered the kitchen to find a plate, no one seemed to notice him except Lydia. She looked over Jesper's head and blinked at him like a mouse trying to decide whether to run. Eventually she looked back down at her plate. Flynn mentally sighed. This was the normal reaction from some people and he didn't like it at all.

Trails of conversation and laughter reached Flynn's ears as he busied himself with the cutlery drawer.

"I've only been here an hour," Jesper said. "No time to find out anything from the other houses. Although it was enough time to trash my room."

Kestrel and Iris cackled around Lydia who smiled gently. Flynn didn't feel anything close to amused. He'd be annoyed if anyone had trashed his room that quickly.

"That wasn't all me," Wylan said with a trace of annoyance. "It was Iris as well."

Jesper let out a low whistle.

"What?" Wylan asked. "It doesn't mean anything. She was the first here, I was the second, so we chatted in my room."

"Our room."

"Our room! I was starting to unpack and she helped me. Right, Iris?"

Flynn turned around in time to see Iris nod. Her mouth had tomato sauce around it and the bowl of extra cheese was extremely close to falling off the table next to her. He shook his head at her ignorance.

"Then she started the pillow/clothes/light-fist fight."

"Now wait just a second…" Iris perked up.

"And I won of course."

"Liar," Iris hissed playfully. "I knocked you over that suitcase! Remember that? You're short enough to notice something of that height."

"Hey!" Wylan interjected. "I'm exactly the same height as you!"

Flynn finally found all of the things he needed and left the kitchen. Lydia's eyes scurried back up to look at him. Her smile disappeared as he sat down next to Jesper who was laughing into his empty plate.

The laughter suddenly died down and they all looked at Flynn. He took a mouthful of lasagne, savoured the flavours and swallowed. When he noticed everyone was still looking at him, he spoke.

"Good evening."

Jesper wiped his mouth and stood up.

"Well, I'm going to grab pudding if no one here minds!" he said. "Oh sorry Wylan. Didn't mean to be insensitive!"

Flynn didn't know whether Jesper said that on purpose, but it dug his pit a little deeper. Even though he had said it to Wylan, he was being insensitive to him and so was everyone else. Why did they suddenly stop talking? They weren't even talking about him.

With a plate of pastries, Jesper sat back down. He licked his lips and took a huge bite. Even though she hadn't finished, Kestrel took one as well, followed swiftly by Iris. She looked over at Flynn who was staring at her. He pointed to his mouth. Confused, Iris touched her own and looked at her hand. Sighing she wiped it clean with her sleeve.

"Thanks," she said.

Nodding in return, Flynn concentrated on his meal. The room was abandoned when he finished. Slowly, he got up, walked over to Iris' seat and picked up the cheese bowl. He looked at the crumbs left, wondering how the bowl hadn't smashed with the rush Iris made when she was done.

* * *

 **Thank you for everyone whose reviewed so far! I'm so pleased you are interested in this story. Most of the reviews have mentioned Kestrel's medication and how serious. I want to say that it won't greatly affect her personality and it isn't the thing that defines her. She is an amazing character with great complexity. Wallflowerpower** **is brilliant for creating her as well as the other people who submitted an OC. (Their names are all on my profile!)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and see you soon for the next!**


	3. House of Schemes

The curtains were drawn by the time Ronan finally reached Anubis House. He got out of his dad's car and stretched. Even though the car was ridiculously spacious for being a car, it made him feel claustrophobic.

The crunch of gravel near the door caught his attention. He could tell it was a girl walking, but the shadows from the house hid her identity. Ignoring the driver asking whether he needed help, Ronan walked towards her.

As he got closer, he saw the trademark flower crown that was almost always worn by Nicci. Smiling at the thought of the ecstatic girl, Ronan sped up.

"Nicci," he called out.

"Ronan?" she shouted back unsure.

"It's great to see you!"

"Same to you!"

They stood in silence for a while, listening to the steady sound of crickets enjoying the night's peace. Ronan felt the last traces of summer's warm air on his face. Nicci, however, suddenly gave a short shiver.

"How were your holidays?" Ronan asked.

"Warm," Nicci answered.

Ronan let out a long laugh. Nicci giggled as well.

"What was that laugh?" she sniggered.

"What? My laugh is perfectly normal, thank you very much!"

"Of course it is," Nicci said matter-of-factly. "If you don't mind, I'm going inside."

Nicci ran towards the welcoming front door. Following her shadow, Ronan walked inside as well. Once he had reached the entrance hall, Nicci had already disappeared. The driver stood next to the stairs surrounded by Ronan's suitcases. He dipped his hat towards his passenger and left without a word.

Ronan was used to this. His family life had been silent gestures and judging looks since his mother had passed away. Ever since her first collapse, Ronan's life had been riddled with the looks. He was now the only thing his father had left. His father had immediately locked his only possession away in a fortress.

Ronan's cellmate was nowhere to be seen. Flynn could be detected wherever he went. His tall figure towered over everyone wherever he went. Even if Ronan stood a step above him, his glaring eyes would make him feel like a mouse.

A clutter and banging came from upstairs. Ronan looked around to spot Kestrel and Jesper.

"Stage one of Project Party," Kestrel shouted from the stairs.

Jesper followed close behind her, telling her to be quieter. Ronan eyed the two walking together huddling together like a group of witches. He stepped in front of them, blocking them from getting off the stairs.

"Need a third witch in your coven?" he asked.

"What?" Kestrel replied blandly.

"Hubble bubble toil and trouble?" Blank face. "The three witches in Macbeth." Raised eyebrow. "Scheming is usually done in threes."

"Oh!" they caught on.

Ronan felt a glimmer of annoyance. He would've thought a straight A student would understand the play they were meant to be studying that year. Ms Andrews wasn't going to be pleased with the amount of work she had ahead of her.

"You want to help us with scheming?" Jesper questioned.

"Of course. What are you trying to do?"

"We're trying to persuade Victor to allow us to have a party on Friday," Jesper said. "When I say 'we' I really mean Wylan as well. It was _his_ idea after all."

"What role do you want me to have?"

"Tell you what," Kestrel smiled, "you can keep a lookout for us. Make sure Victor doesn't overhear what we're doing."

"And what do I do if I see him?"

"You'll come up with something," Jesper said, patting him on the back. "You always do!"

Ronan watched in silence as the two disappeared into the kitchen. Trudy's voice joined their conversation quite quickly. The emptiness of the hall made Ronan long to be in there with them. Even if he was just listening, he wouldn't mind. He could count on his fingers the number of friends he had and that didn't include his thumbs.

 _At least I'm better than Flynn and Lydia._

Sudden guilt filled Ronan at his thought. If either of them could perform telepathy, he was sure they would be greatly hurt. It was true that Flynn didn't have as many close friends as he did. He didn't try to make any friends though. The same could be said for Lydia. She preferred the company of a piece of homework or book rather than a human being sometimes.

The sound of Victor's door opening snapped Ronan from his thoughts. He looked up to see Victor walking across the landing towards the stairs. To his dismay, Ronan couldn't think of a way to block him.

Luck was on his side when the basement door opened. If it wasn't for his relief, Ronan would've been shocked. No one was allowed into the basement, not even Trudy. It was Victor's little hideaway that no one had ever seen. Before he left, Ronan was determined he would find out what was down there through any way possible.

The man that came out wore a leather jacket and held a glass bottle in his hand. His hair was roughly cut and he looked relatively young. However, Ronan suspected he probably wasn't due to the clear cut of his blue eyes as well as the defined muscular arms he owned.

Taking advantage of him, Ronan jumped into action. He stepped in the man's path and held out a hand.

"Hello," he greeted. "May I introduce myself?"

"One of the little children?" the man pondered.

Ronan was taken aback by this. He had never been called a child by anyone before, let alone little. He was certainly not little and he certainly was more mature than the other 'little children'.

"No, I'm not one of the little children," Ronan replied rigidly. "I'm one of the _appreciated_ students."

"Of course you are," the man smirked.

"Rufus!" Victor called from the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

"I forgot something," the man replied holding up the bottle. "I'll bring it back tomorrow."

Rufus took hold of the bland suitcase and began to walk towards the door. Intercepting him, Victor glared down at the man. He seemed to forget Ronan was there until Rufus flapped towards him.

"Thank you, Ronan," Victor said. "You can go now."

Ronan raised an eyebrow, but obeyed. He scurried into the kitchen just in time to see Jesper high five Kestrel. Trudy stood smiling warmly next to them. Jesper went to hug her and Trudy gasped.

"And that is not the last one you are getting," Jesper grinned.

"What's going on?" Ronan asked.

"We're getting a suggestion box," Kestrel said.

"Is that worth a celebration?"

"You'll see," Jesper whispered in his ear.

"It's ten o'clock!" Victor called from the entrance hall. "You have five minutes precisely and then I want to hear a pin… drop."

Quickly the three students ran out of the kitchen. Trudy called goodnight after them. Before Ronan reached his door, he remembered his suitcases. Turning back to get them, he noticed Rufus was still standing there. Victor had presumably gone to his office.

Rufus took his time walking towards Ronan. Each footstep echoed around him until he had eradicated the distance. He leaned in to reach Ronan's ear. The air that breathed into his ear was much more hostile than Jesper's had been.

"Don't follow their orders. Make some of your own sometimes."

With that, Rufus fled out into the night. Ronan stared after him. When he woke up the next morning he could still feel the parasite crawling around his right ear.

* * *

Iris was not a morning person… Nicci was a morning person… Once the maths is completed, one can understand the ridicule of early mornings and late nights for them. Luckily for Nicci (and unluckily for Iris), it was morning.

Nicci flounced around her room in her turquoise nightdress. She hummed to the radio blaring out a random pop song as she brushed through her hair. Occasionally she entertained herself by tapping the lump in Iris' bed with her hairbrush. It moaned back at every hit.

Eventually Iris emerged from the mountain of bedcovers. Her burgundy wasn't agreeing with her, but she was more occupied on getting her eyes to function. Nicci laughed at the way they each winked at her.

Padding barefoot down the hall, Iris and Nicci finally made it to the bathroom. Nicci dived in first, leaving Iris to fix her eyes.

"What was the point of waking me if you're going to get in first?" Iris called grumpily through the door.

"Watch as the queue starts to get longer," Nicci replied.

Five minutes later and Iris hadn't heard a single floorboard creak. Boredom began to seep through her and the singing in the bathroom hadn't faltered once. She worked out that she wasn't going to get in there any time soon so she went back to her bedroom.

One side of the room was decorated with makeshift drawings and handmade canvas. The one above Nicci's bed was by far the messiest, but Iris only didn't pull it down because she knew how much that one meant to her roommate. She had heard it was the first one Nicci had painted on a canvas.

Iris' side of much less bright. The dark colours contrasted surprisingly well with the bright ones Nicci sported. The brightness was also starting to manipulate Iris into a little bit of colour after years of being in that room. Her guitar, which sat next to the door, had a flower sticker on the neck and elaborate green swirls on the body.

Iris picked up the guitar and strummed a few chords. The strings were unwinding after not being played for a while. Setting work on tuning the instrument, Iris heard a squeal down the hall.

"Water!" shouted a muffled Nicci.

Iris tried to stifle a laugh and failed. After a minute, Nicci slammed open the door.

"You look like you've been in a storm," Iris commented innocently.

"Don't!" Nicci fumed. "Now go get in the shower."

Rolling her eyes, Iris grabbed her washbag. As she walked into the hall, she saw the bathroom door close and heard the tell-tale sounds of the shower starting up.

"Great," Iris muttered.

Not wanting to be the raincloud, Iris wandered to Kestrel's room at the end of the hall. She poked her head around the door to see Kestrel already in her school uniform. Examining herself in the mirror, Iris noticed a jewellery box open on her desk.

"Since when did you have a jewellery box?"

Kestrel jumped at Iris' voice. She quickly shut the lid and turned around. A silver compass shone from around her neck. Guilt was reflected in the metal.

"To keep this in," Kestrel said holding up her necklace.

"Surely you have something else in there," Iris teased.

"Quit it," Kestrel protested.

"Once I've had a look."

"Hey!"

Iris had walked over to the desk and placed a hand on the box. Kestrel stared at Iris with an anger she had never seen before. She slowly moved her hand away.

"You are to never go in there!" Kestrel growled. "Will you ever go in there?"

A strange feeling took over Iris. She didn't think about what she was doing, but allowed herself to float around as if she was in a dream. Her head shook of its own accord and she accepted it. She would never dare to open that box or mess around with it. It ended as suddenly as it began.

Iris blinked and looked around her. Kestrel was smiling at her in a weird way. It looked like she hadn't turned her frown upside down completely.

"Thanks Iris!" Kestrel grinned. "Sorry about that. Did I hear the shower stopping?"

Iris listened hard and couldn't hear anything. She waved goodbye to Kestrel before leaving. As she left, she heard a sniffle. Turning back, she saw Kestrel staring into her mirror. None of it made sense to her, but Kestrel's hand on her jewellery box sent a little twinge through the depths of her mind.

* * *

 **And there's the first two hints towards the two main arcs of the story! Did you spot them? Also every character (from Anubis) has been introduced! Yay! I'm hoping to be able to update every Friday between 7 and 9pm (UK time). If I'm unable to, the chapter should be up the next day or I'll mention in the chapter before.**

 **Thank you everyone for reviewing! It makes my day to read all of your thoughts about this story and sometimes I get a laugh out of them. It helps me to stay inspired.**


	4. House of Miming

Nicci stood in front of Trudy trying to put on her cutest puppy-dog-eyes face. Instead Trudy shooed her straight out of the living room.

"No no no," Trudy cried. "You can't wear that! It's against the school rules."

"But Trudy, it isn't," Nicci protested. "It's just an adaptation. They never said I can't add my own accessories."

"Luminous suspenders are not an adaption," Trudy said with her disbelieving tone. "Go and get changed at once!"

"Yes Trudy," Nicci gave in.

Nicci passed Iris on the stairs as she began to troop to her room. When they met Iris held out a hand to stop her.

"What's up with you?" she asked.

"The school won't let me wear these," Nicci sighed plucking one of her suspenders.

"Why not?"

"They aren't a part of the school uniform."

"So?" Iris shrugged. "If I can wear my boots," she pointed at the buckled combat boots on her feet, "then of course you can wear those. Come on!"

Without waiting for an answer, Iris looped her arm around Nicci's and pulled her down the stairs. Nicci was so surprised that she stumbled, skipped a step and almost hit the stained glass window.

After a quick blueberry muffin and orange juice, the two girls walked to the school. It was hectic. New students wandered around on their own, trying not to be squashed by older students running to people from other houses. Students tried to jump the lines to grab their timetables while others patiently flicked through their new textbooks.

Nicci passed Eric's office just in time to almost get hit by the door. She let out a squeal and stepped onto Iris' toe. Eric quickly fumbled with the door.

"Oh, Nicci," he gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there. I was just about to try and find your sister."

Nicci noticed Iris raising an eyebrow from the corner of her eye. Every single conversation that she had with Eric involved her sister in some way. It reminded her of when she tried to talk to Flynn. Even when she could come up with any topic, from art to dance to sport, he wouldn't talk about anything that he wasn't used to.

"It was my fault," Nicci apologised. "I should've been watching where I was going."

"Nicci, we need to hurry," Iris interrupted. "We need to get our timetables before whatever is first and the queue is absolutely massive."

"I might be able to help you," Eric offered. "Come in here."

Eric beckoned the girls into his office. They stood in front of his desk as he looked through files on his computer. After a minute, two timetables were being printed. Nicci grinned at Eric who had jumped up to her top three teachers.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled.

"Yeah thanks," Iris echoed.

Nicci looked down at her timetable and inwardly groaned. She had Daphne twice today with Brooke first and Eric last. The only interesting lesson was Fran's drama class. That was going to be interesting. Iris also seemed to be examining her day as well, because she let out a sigh.

Nicci was positive that God was trying to test her today. First she had been told off for her suspenders and now she had a bad day of lessons. However, it was topped by an omnipresent Victor who entered the office at that moment.

His brown overcoat flapped against Iris' schoolbag as he entered. The cheery expression on Eric's face seemed to falter. Victor gave a sideways glance at his house's residents who quickly fled the room.

Once the door was shut, Nicci let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Iris looked at Nicci. Nicci looked at Iris. They both shuddered in unison and started to giggle.

"What's going on here?"

Wylan pushed open the double doors at the end of the corridor. A black rucksack was slung over his shoulder which matched the dark rings under his eyes. Evidence of a late night hadn't been erased.

"Victor just decided to pay Eric a visit," Nicci explained.

"First name terms are we?" Wylan smirked.

"Stop it!" Iris lightly hit Wylan on the arm.

"Hey! No need for that! You know what they're talking about?"

"Nope."

"Why don't you find out?"

"How?" Nicci asked curious.

"You're a girl," Wylan smirked. "You work it out yourself."

With a flip of his brown hair, Wylan merged into the crowd. Iris grabbed Nicci's arm and pulled her towards the girl toilets.

"Iris," Nicci gasped.

"You heard him," Iris grinned. "We're girls."

"So?"

"So, we can be close enough to hear through the walls."

Iris let go of Nicci at the sinks. She leaned her ear against some of the tiles. Her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly began to move around.

"You're never going to hear what they're saying," Nicci commented.

"Sh!"

Suddenly Iris stood up. She beckoned Nicci to the wall, pointing at one of the centre tiles. Nicci obliged and put her ear to the wall. Muffled conversation answered.

"I can't hear anything," she admitted.

"Pass me one of your stickers."

Nicci pulled a sheet of stickers from her handbag. It was wrong for anyone to walk around without stickers just in case situations like these… whatever this situation was. Iris chose a blue round sticker to place onto the tile.

"Oh!" Nicci suddenly understood.

"I'll come back at break," Iris smiled. "Anyway, history?"

* * *

The drama studio had been set up with all of the chairs in a circle. When Lydia arrived with her bag already filled with books and homework, she was disappointed that her normal seat in the corner had been moved. Being the first in the room, she sat opposite the door.

As the class began to filter in, Lydia noticed that most of them were in pairs or threes. Flynn and Ronan sat down a couple of seats chatting between them. Iris and Nicci were comparing earring choices which they been doing during the last lesson as well.

When Kestrel came in, she looked over at Iris who smiled at her. Kestrel waved tentatively, but her eyes were examining the other seats. To Lydia's surprise, Kestrel sat down next to her.

"Hey," she grinned at the quiet girl.

"Hello," Lydia responded. "How are you?"

"Good."

Lydia watched as Kestrel fiddled with her bag and pulled out a pack of cards. She began to shuffle them effortlessly, each card slipping into a new reserved place for itself. Lydia's mouth formed a little 'o' in awe of Kestrel's skill.

"We still have five minutes before class. Wanna play?"

"Which game?"

"Chase the Queen is pretty quick."

Kestrel flicked through the cards until she reached one of the queens. She placed the Queen of Hearts face up on the floor. Masterfully, she split the pack and passed half of them to Lydia.

After throwing out all of her pairs, Lydia began to take Kestrel's cards to try to win. When she was down to one card and Kestrel had two, she tried to predict which card she should go for. Just before she was going to pick, Kestrel lifted one card higher than the other. Lydia was baffled. Was Kestrel using strategy in a game of luck?

Kestrel looked straight at Lydia. An innocent smile crossed her face. Lydia thought carefully about what to do. It could be a bluff and Kestrel wanted her to not take it. Then again it could be the right card and she wanted her to take it. Eventually Lydia snatched the higher card and looked at it. The Queen of Spades stared back at her.

Lydia tried to shuffle her cards behind her back. However, when she brought them back, Kestrel immediately took the right card.

"Nice game," Kestrel said, picking up the discarded pairs.

"But…"

"What?"

Lydia couldn't believe she had been beaten. She was meant to be the smartest in the year and she had been beaten so easily. She twisted her mouth at the sour taste of defeat. It wasn't something she liked.

"Well done," Lydia forced out with the best smile she could muster. "Do you want to play again?"

At that moment Miss Abel entered the drama studio by walking onto the stage. Kestrel quickly whispered to Lydia.

"Maybe later."

Lydia sat quietly throughout the beginning of the lesson. She was one of the few writing on a pad of paper. Most of the students were laughing at Miss Abel's comments or not bothered about essays and keywords on the first day of lessons.

"For today's lesson," Miss Abel spoke clearly from her armchair, "I've brought something special for you to see. I need all of you to be very careful with it otherwise it could get spooked and I'll get in trouble with Mr Sweet. This is going to be our little secret."

Everyone in the circle began to murmur. Lydia was intrigued by the idea of something being forbidden. What could Miss Abel possibly be risking? The teacher reached behind the armchair to grab a biscuits tin. The whispering increased as Miss Abel began to take off the lid.

Lydia leaned forward to look around Kestrel. Carefully, Miss Abel put her hand inside the tin. Suddenly she lurched back as if something had bit her.

"Stop it Dorothy," she said sternly to the tin.

A couple of ah's came from Nicci across the circle. Lydia raised an eyebrow. Surely there wasn't an animal in there. Miss Abel tentatively reached back inside and pulled out… nothing. Her cupped hands didn't hold anything. Kestrel slumped back into her seat as Wylan and Jesper tried to stifle their laughter.

"Everyone meet Dorothy," Miss Abel smiled. "She's my baby bird."

Lydia frowned. What was going on? Had Miss Abel lost her marbles? To her surprise, Kestrel let out a squeak of delight. Everyone stared at her. Miss Abel nodded towards the girl.

"It looks like Kestrel is the only one that likes her," Miss Abel pouted disappointed. "Maybe if I pass her around the rest of you will like her too."

She shook her cupped hands above the girl's next to her. 'Dorothy' was persistent in not leaving her owner. Eventually Miss Abel moved away. The students were nervous at first. Flynn passed the bird straight on to Ronan who stroked her head or wing. Lydia couldn't tell what he was trying to do.

Kestrel eagerly stretched her hands out. She pulled Dorothy close to her and rocked slowly with her. Lydia prepared herself to put up with the attention of the class. But before Kestrel could pass on the bird, her hands flung forwards. Quickly she snatched Dorothy up off of the floor.

Lydia took the bird from Kestrel. Her idea had just been to stroke her for a couple of seconds, but Kestrel's performance had been so extravagant. At first there was nothing in her hands. Air filled her palms and she didn't do anything. Then she began to picture the bird. Yellow feathers adorned the chick's body and her claws dug into Lydia's fingers.

Even though there wasn't a chick, Lydia moved her hands to support it. Her fingers caressed the feathers and she tapped Dorothy playfully on the beak. Ten seconds later she joined her hands with the boy's next to her and moved away.

Once Dorothy had stopped at Miss Abel, after a throwing game between Wylan and Jesper, Lydia could still see the bird. It beady eyes peeked through Miss Abel's fingers at her. A tense moment passed while she wondered what else they were going to do.

Suddenly Miss Abel flung Dorothy onto the floor and stamped on her repeatedly. Most people flinched and Kestrel gasped. On the other hand, Lydia screamed. It left her mouth before she could stop it.

Breathing heavily, Miss Abel twisted her foot on the floor. She looked up, smiling like a maniac. Her finger pointed straight at Lydia.

"That," she breathed, "is how you should be reacting. Well done, Lydia."

Lydia felt heat rush into her cheeks. Unlike most of the time it wasn't from embarrassment. It was from the look Kestrel was giving her. She seemed disappointed. Had she done something wrong?

"Everyone get into partners for the next activity!" Miss Abel called.

Kestrel abandoned Lydia to go and work with someone else. As usual, she was left to work in a three.

* * *

 **Before I get anyone saying Lydia wouldn't have screamed, I did the exact same thing last year. I still have people say "you're the girl who screamed at the non-existent bird". It was loads of fun! There are going to be some other experiences from my drama lessons merged into here now and again.**

 **Some of your guesses on the arcs are interesting. The closest is by kaixnx360 even though it isn't completely correct. The jewellery box will have a lot of mentions in the whole of this story and as late as the last few (that I have planned anyway).**

 **Thank you for reading this chapter and showing your support! Next week the chapter will be up a few hours later than usual due to a family outing thing.**


	5. House of Types

Kestrel quietly snuck past an ecstatic Nicci, who was squealing about dance, into the girls' toilets before French. She needed to cool down after the fiasco Miss Abel's drama class had been. A mental note added itself to the already bulging folder on Wylan Peters labelled 'never do a love scene again'.

To her surprise, Iris was standing by the sinks doing something to the wall that Kestrel couldn't see. She placed her bag on the floor next to her best friend's and tapped her on the shoulder. Iris yelped in surprise.

"What are you doing?" Kestrel asked curiously.

"Nothing!" Iris very poorly covered up.

"Nothing consists of a compass and tearing a tile from the wall?" Kestrel said like a mother discovering her daughter drawing over her bedroom wall.

"I'm trying to make it easier to listen to Mr Sweet," Iris admitted.

A spark of interest ignited in Kestrel.

"Why do you need to do that? I mean, now of all times?"

"Something Wylan said."

There was Wylan's name cropping up again. Last night had been Wylan this and Wylan that. Kestrel was beginning to wonder what had happened to the Iris she knew.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Kestrel smiled.

"About what?" Iris asked suspiciously.

"Are you a little bit – you know – in love with Wylan?"

"What?" Iris cried in shock. "No way in hell! You've got to be bloody joking! That idiot is so not for me. Does he look like my type?"

Kestrel silently took Iris' outbreak as a no. Maybe she was outthinking everything. It was just a boring old friendship. Nothing more interesting than that. There never was after all.

"Sorry again," Kestrel mumbled. "You've just been mentioning him a lot lately."

Iris turned back to the wall and continued chipping away at the plaster holding it in place. Kestrel took that as her cue to leave. She scooped up her bag and made her way to French.

Ms Andrews was placing textbooks on the tables when Kestrel entered. Half the class was already there and claiming seats. She looked to the front row where Nicci and Lydia were pointing out words in the textbook. It seemed the best French speakers were helping each other with extra work. Kestrel scrunched up her nose. Unless she was fluent in French like Nicci, she would never do extra classwork.

Jesper and Wylan leaned against the wall at the back of the room. Annoyed at their laughter, Kestrel sat down next to Flynn. He didn't look up while she put her books and pencil case on the table. It seemed she could've dangled anything in front of his eyes and he wouldn't focus on it.

"Settle down," Ms Andrews called. "Today we are just going over some of last year's work. Please turn to page six."

Flynn flicked the textbook open and began to write out the activity in silence. Kestrel leaned on her elbow. It was strange not having a constant nagging sitting next to her.

Suddenly, the door opened to show Iris. Her diamond nose stud twinkled against the small trickle of sweat on her face.

"Late," Ms Andrews announced. "I'll speak to you at the end. Sit down."

Iris had to pass Kestrel to reach the only empty seat. She looked behind her before bending down to Kestrel's level.

"Sorry."

With that word, Iris sat down behind Wylan and Jesper. Kestrel blinked rapidly for a moment. She turned around to look at Iris. Catching her eye, she smiled and Iris smiled back too. Maybe Iris hadn't changed at all.

The new happiness in Kestrel caused her to do something she wouldn't normally do. She faced Flynn and said, "Do you want to together?" He seemed slightly surprised, but nodded in agreement.

* * *

Mr Sweet had barely said the words "that is the end" when the throng of students began to pack away their stuff. Jesper felt Wylan's hand hit him on his way past. He turned his head in Wylan's direction just in time to see him grabbing the shoulder of a girl in front of him. It was a girl with strawberry blonde hair held back by a black aliceband, and aliceband that belonged to Lydia.

Jesper quickly followed after Wylan and Lydia before Lydia could discover that her cheeks could go a shade pinker than she originally thought. The pair was standing next to an open locker. Lydia was placing books into the empty space while nodding to whatever Wylan was saying. An uncontrollable smile was on her face.

It was hard for Jesper to break up their conversation no matter how one sided it was. The joy Lydia was feeling was something Jesper rarely saw when she was with Wylan. On the other hand, she was oblivious to the growing arrogance Wylan was getting every second. Unwillingly Jesper walked over to them.

"Hey guys!" he grinned.

Lydia came out of her trance and quickly turned red. She slammed her locker shut causing a loud bang to reverberate around the hall. Once she had run out of earshot, Wylan and Jesper burst out laughing.

"I have missed the wonders of Lydia Samuels," Wylan snorted through tears.

"She is so weird," Jesper agreed. "Maybe she will get better if you stop teasing her."

"Teasing her?" Wylan frowned in confusion. "I'm only talking nicely to her."

The boys began to make their way back to Anubis House across the grass. The trees were holding onto the last pieces of summer green that they could, but they were starting to fall under the wrath of autumn.

"Lydia is pretty, isn't she?" Wylan said out of the blue.

"Oh no," Jesper murmured.

"What?"

"She's not your type," Jesper said.

"You have no idea what my type is, mate. Maybe I like pretty quiet hardworking girls who don't socialise with the outside world unless forced to."

"Not funny."

"Well, what's your type of girl then?"

Jesper had to pause before answering. What was his type of girl? Out of the girls he spent every day with, none of them had ever attracted his attention in that way. They were more like a family to him. It was very easy to map out their family roles.

Lydia was the quiet all-knowing grandma that would sit alone unless she was helping others. Nicci was the bouncy cousin, always discovering something new to show her friends. Iris was the independent aunt that went a different way from what everyone did.

And Kestrel was like an older sister. There was no other explanation for her, because she always seemed to know something a younger brother wasn't allowed to know until he was old enough.

"I have a type of girl," Jesper said eventually. "I just haven't got to know her yet."

"I'll help you if you want," Wylan said with a new surge of enthusiasm.

"I think I'll pass for now."

Jesper pushed open the front door with ease. The first thing he noticed was a wooden box sitting on the telephone's table. He walked over to it. A slit was cut on the top and a padlock was fastened at the side. His suggestion box had arrived quicker than he expected.

"Victor obviously had an empty schedule," he muttered.

Wylan came up behind him. Once he saw the box, he whooped with joy. They both scribbled onto pieces of paper and slipped them in the box.

"Let's hope Kestrel was right," Wylan grinned.

"Trust me," Jesper said, "she always has and will be."

As if on cue, Kestrel entered the house. She was about to go upstairs when Jesper tapped her. He flourished his hands at the box and watched her smile to unfold.

"Have you put it in?" she asked excitedly.

"You bet we have," Wylan said. "Here."

He passed her a ripped piece of paper and a pen. She quickly scribbled down her note and slipped it in.

"Has anyone else put one in yet?"

"Nope! We're the first back, but Nicci, Lydia and Iris have agreed."

"You managed to convince Lydia?" Jesper asked.

"It was easy," Wylan said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Who's asking Ronan and Flynn?" Kestrel ventured.

The question fell flat when no one answered. She placed a hand on her hip and rolled her eye.

"Well, I have much more important things to do. You sort it out."

She flicked her untamed auburn hair in Wylan's face before racing upstairs. Jesper watched Kestrel's slender frame wander across the landing. He loved the way she chose the best timed moments to leave them, even if it left him with an extra problem. Wylan rubbed his face.

"I think she made her point," Jesper grinned.

"Yes, she definitely did."

* * *

"It's nine o'clock! You have five minutes precisely and then I want to hear a pin… drop!"

Ronan laid awake on his bed listening to the heavy breathing coming from Flynn's peaceful body. The clock ticked closer towards the thirty-minute mark before he would risk getting some water. Victor had been very insistent on everyone being in their rooms on time.

"I have urgent business," had been his words.

Slowly Ronan lowered himself into what Wylan called Grandpa Slippers and put on what Iris called a Gentleman's Dressing Gown. The clock's hands were tentatively close to half past. He was annoyed by the teasing an inanimate object was able to do.

Eventually the minute hand was forced to move and Ronan reached for the door. The hall outside was deadly quiet. It was rare not to hear the echo of shouting or laughter, moaning or yawning at this time of night. A shiver raced up his spine. Quickly he took refuge in the kitchen.

After a refreshing drink, Ronan made his way back to his room. However, before he reached the hall, whispers of danger began. He leaned against the wall listening to the conversation.

"Have you got it, Rufus?" Victor whispered (badly in Ronan's opinion).

"Of course I have," a man whispered back. "Do you really not trust me to keep a promise? I _always_ keep my promises."

"Well, did she see it?"

"Patience, Victor, patience. Once everyone else has arrived, I'll tell you everything. As much as everyone else thinks you are the leader, I do not. So don't ask for special treatment from me."

Ronan subconsciously raised an eyebrow. Rufus had an attitude that could rival Victor's. It would be funny to listen to if it wasn't for the poison seeping into the air.

"You didn't want power all those years ago so don't ask for anything new now. You're much too old for anything to change for you."

"At least I have a life with others that care for me," Rufus spat. "All you are those kids that don't even like you. You don't even know what they can hear."

Ronan's heart hit out of sync against his chest. Gulping, he risked a look into the hallway. Rufus was standing in front of Victor with the bottle from last night in his hand. even though he was shorter than Victor his smugness radiated from him.

"Get downstairs, Zeno," Victor ordered.

A smirk crossed Rufus' face before he followed his comrade's order. He held the door open for Victor to pass through. Ronan watched him begin to follow, but suddenly he turned to him. Both of them placed a finger to their lips: Rufus in childish excitement and Ronan in sheer terror.

* * *

 **I'm really sorry for not updating last week. An unscheduled sick bug caught me off-guard for most of the week so I didn't feel like writing.**

 **Thanks again for the reviews I've been receiving. I'm finding it funny that practically every single person loves Nicci's sticker collection. She seems to be the type of person to carry around a Mary Poppins bag to me so there will be some odd bits and bobs coming from there from time to time.**

 **Also Maebird's comment pointed out the strange feelings in Lydia and Kestrel's relationship. I want to point out again that some things in this story are complex and there's more than one way to define everyone's relationships.**


	6. House of Suggestions

Mr Mason's lessons had two names: Art (when written on paper) and Social Studies (when spoken by the students). Whether it was his relaxed attitude or not being able to control the class, no one knew why more chat than work was done. The only thing they cared about was the 'free period' they had.

Nicci's table was always the fullest. Everyone wanted to be with her for one reason or another. Lydia would sit opposite her to gain the best marks that she could in a subject that didn't rely on intelligence. Iris and Kestrel would at the other end of the table catching up on the gossip there was. Occasionally they managed to get Nicci's pencil off of her sketchbook to chat too.

Then there were the girls from Isis House. To put it lightly they were cheerleaders in a school without cheerleaders. They were all chatty, popular, athletic and attractive. Very attractive! Many times Nicci had been asked by someone to go out with her, she had been told that she wasn't like the others, but her answer was always maybe.

Lily was one of the friendliest Isis girls. She tapped Nicci's shoulder to get her attention. Nicci pulled her headphones off.

"You want to go into town with us this afternoon?" Lily asked. "We're checking out this new clothes shop on the Church Street. Hopefully we can find something for the party."

"Sure," Nicci smiled. "I'd love to."

She quickly ducked her head to get back to her sketch. It was a privilege to get a sketchbook that hadn't been touched before. There weren't any dents in the paper or any folds in the corners where she would endlessly turn the pages.

Lily shuffled her chair closer to Nicci's work. Today Nicci had decided to try to contribute to one of her two projects this term. A dragonfly's tail was the start of her opening work for her nature collection. Carefully she applied light shading at the edge to create a three-dimensional effect.

"That's so good," Lily whispered. "It's a shame this isn't something like Maths or Science you can do in the future."

"Is there anything else you want to talk about, Lily?" Nicci mumbled.

"Actually yeah there is. Allie!"

A brunette turned around at her name. A piece of gum was stuck between her constantly moving teeth.

"Yep," the girl said popping her 'p'.

"Tell Nicci what you were talking about earlier."

"Oh yeah. You totally need to hear this!"

Allie walked around the table to push Lydia out of her seat. Lydia jolted in surprise. The cheerleader sneered at her in a failed attempt to look sorry. Collecting up her stuff, Lydia scuttled to a table of six with only a lovey dovey couple on it. Nicci's eyes were too busy on her dragonfly's tail.

"So," Allie began, "there's this rumour that you might know the answer to. It's about Miss Abel and Miss Deveraux."

Nicci perked up suddenly. She let her pencil drop to the paper in her excitement. A rumour this early into the year. This was something to listen to. Allie leaned in across the table and cupped her hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened as she prepared herself to release the vital news.

"So Amy told Jesper who told Wylan who told Daniel who told me that Miss Abel has been seeing someone."

"I knew that already," Nicci shrugged. "She told me a few days ago."

Allie's shoulders dipped slightly at Nicci's unusual blunt answer. However, after a few seconds, Allie jumped back into her gossip position.

"But then there's the other news! Your sister has also been seeing someone."

"What?!" Nicci cried. "No way. Brooke? No, no way!"

She bounced up and down on her fragile chair, causing it to creak repeatedly. Lily laughed at her friend's reaction.

"Amy spotted her in her classroom," Allie said, "with this clean-shaven man. Like on his head and his face. That was all she saw before running away, but they were close to each other."

"Like this close," Lily giggled.

She leaned towards Nicci until she was an inch away from her face.

"And making kissing noises," Allie added.

Shrill laughs came from the cheerleaders next to them. Allie and Lily joined in, but Nicci could only force a couple of giggles. She wondered whether Brooke knew about what was happening. If their parents found out about this relationship, she was sure Brooke's clean record would be wiped.

Nicci couldn't say that she was as perfect as Brooke. She was nowhere near that. Her grades were just above passes, she excelled in the useless subjects and concentrated too much on her dance lessons. On the other hand, Brooke was academic, successful and had good links with people in America, England and France. Why Brooke was a teacher Nicci had no idea.

"How did you find out about Fran?" Nicci babbled.

"I spotted her!" Allie said proudly. "She was passing someone outside and he kissed her on the cheek while she passed."

A couple of ahs came from Lily and Nicci. They looked at each other and laughed.

"More kissy noises," Lily cried out.

Suddenly Nicci felt a shiver ran down her back. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn't leave her. From behind her a boy spoke.

"You can't know rumours; you can only hear them."

The girls faltered as Flynn passed them. He didn't look at a single one of them and stared at the door in front of him. None of them had noticed the class leaving in the chaos of the gossip.

Nicci quickly stuffed her sketchbook into her bag and abandoned Allie and Lily. She ran to the hall. Students in red filed past her as they made their way outside, trying to enjoy the last remnants of the summer.

It was easy to spot Flynn amongst the crowd. He was the tallest student in the year after all.

"Flynn!" Nicci called. "Flynn!"

His head twitched slightly as he recognised her voice. Nicci pushed past a group of younger students to try to reach him. Before she could reach him, Flynn turned around. A finger was placed on his lips. As quickly as he had turned, he somehow disappeared in the crowd.

* * *

Iris sat in the living room, flicking through her book. She had lost her page after falling asleep on it the last week. Now she was having to reread the death of her favourite character again. It was quite a gruesome description, but it didn't bother her. She was pleased that she could relive (or re-kill?) the character's last moments.

The sofa shuddered as someone jumped down next to her. Iris moved the book closer to her face even though it blurred some of the words. Please don't let it be…

"Hi Iris!" Wylan and Jesper said in unison.

Iris pursed her lips before trying on her best smile.

"Hello boys," she replied.

"What are you reading?" Wylan ventured.

"The usual. Kidnappings, torture and death."

"Nice!"

"Okay, what do you want?" Iris asked putting her book down.

"What do we want?" Jesper repeated feigning innocence. "Can't we just sit here and…"

Iris narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Can't a guy just spend some time with his friend?" Wylan asked.

"Two guys."

"Two guys," Wylan corrected. "Can't two guys just spend some time with their friend?"

"As much as this pains me to say it," Iris said, "no they cannot."

She picked her book up again and moved to the entrance hall's little telephone table. The remainders of the boys' dignity trailed behind.

The haphazardly put together suggestion box sat warmly on the table as if it had been there for years. Iris pushed it gently out of the box to the edge of the table. It was surprisingly heavy for having only a few pieces of paper inside.

The thought of paper reminded her of her promise to Kestrel. She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote something on it. In loopy joined up writing she requested for "a party fit for a queen". Iris listened to the thud as it hit the bottom of the box.

Suddenly something else clicked in her mind. Another scrawl later, she had asked for one of her greatest desires: pancakes on weekdays.

As she placed her second suggestion in the box, Ronan entered the house. He was still in his uniform unlike Iris. She had very quickly changed into leggings and a flannel top at the first opportunity. There was a strange itchiness that came with the school's sweater even after she had cut off the sleeves.

"Hey Ronan," she grinned as he walked over to her. "What's up?"

"The ceiling?" he offered. "How are you?"

"Pretty well. You spoke to Kestrel yet?"

He slipped a piece of paper out of his blazer pocket as an answer.

"How did she manage to do that?"

"By her power of persuasion," Ronan said matter-of-factly. "She seemed a bit more hesitant than usual though. Probably the pollen causing an allergic reaction with her hearing abilities."

"Pollen?" Iris asked becoming lost.

"Autumn coming with many flaws in the ecosystem. The plants release pollen which then…"

"Stop!" Iris cried. "Sarcasm. Very bad that time, but it was a… um… What's a question that you don't want an answer to?"

"Rhetorical question."

"That's it! It was a rhetorical question. What I was trying to ask is why on this Earth do you want a party?"

"Can't I have a good time at one of your parties?" Iris raised an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a no then."

"Déjà vu alert," Iris mumbled. "What's the actual reason?"

To her surprise, Ronan put a firm hand on her shoulder. The piece of paper cut sharply across the flannel material.

"I'm not going to tell you, Iris," he said. "If you want to know ask me on Saturday and I'll see if I can answer then."

Iris eyed Ronan's hand carefully. When he had held her for an abnormal amount of time, she gestured to it. Coming out of his sudden trance, Ronan awkwardly removed his hand.

"Sorry," he moaned. "Not the right move. I'll just leave."

He slipped the piece of paper into the box. However, he knocked it in the process. The suggestion box almost crushed Iris' foot as it hit the floor. The two stared at each other before the judge, jury and executioner yelled from his office above.

"Who's smashing up my house!" Victor cried.

In unison they both pointed to each other and shouted, "He did!" "She did!"

Victor's finger hovered over Iris and Ronan deciding on what to do. His eyes narrowed at the culprits, trying to pick out the liar. Eventually he landed on Iris.

"Miss Greyson," he called. "Come and collect the polish."

"But, but, but!"

It was too late. The window slammed shut behind Victor. Ronan's cheeks flushed in guilt.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Iris grunted as she made a gesture with her hands that looked like she was strangling someone. Catching on, Ronan darted away. Gloomily, Iris trudged upstairs to her punishment.

Victor's office was as dull as ever. He had a tweezer in his right hand and a pocket watch in his left. Spare cogs that were meant to go somewhere were littered on the desk next to a freshly opened can of polish. The acrid smell was already flaring alarm signals.

"You! Go!" Victor ordered.

"Yes sir," Iris rolled her eyes.

* * *

 **Hello again! Thanks for reading the latest chapter! As you may have noticed there were two new secondary characters today: Lily and Allie. They won't feature as often as the main eight, but will drop in now and again for all of the juicy gossip.**

 **The party starts to get going next chapter and I can't wait to post it! The story will properly start drama then. There might even be a surprise or two if you haven't pieced a few clues together yet. A new step forward in relationships and this story's mystery is on its way during the two or three party chapters (depends how much I write for each one).**


	7. House of Necklaces

Thursday morning came with problems for all of Anubis House. The first one came in the early hours of the morning. Wylan woke up to the screams of one of the girls upstairs. Jesper turned on a lamp across the room. The look on his face reflected Wylan's puzzlement.

A door down the corridor creaked open along with the sound of whispered conversation. Hurried bangs came from overhead with muffled sobs.

"What do you think is going on?" Jesper wondered, looking up at the ceiling.

"You find out. I'm going back to sleep."

"Wylan!" Jesper sighed. "Surely you care something about what is going on up there."

"Nope," Wylan said popping the p.

He flopped back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. It had been such a nice dream he was woken from as well. For some reason Victor and Trudy had gone missing and everything had turned to anarchy. The details of the dream were disappearing, but Wylan was positive that he had been the unspoken ruler.

Sleep had almost captured him again when Jesper pulled the covers from over him. He scowled up at his roommate in disgust.

"What the hell do you think…"

Quickly, Jesper put a finger to his lips. He beckoned for Wylan to follow him to the open door. With no hope of getting back to his dream, Wylan shuffled to the gap showing the entrance hall.

Trudy stood with her arm around a sobbing Kestrel. It wasn't a pretty sight. Her eyes were bloodshot with tear stains across her cheeks. Small curved marks stood out on her unusually pale forehead which hadn't been there last night. They looked strangely like fingernail marks. Dragged out breaths forced themselves out of her mouth, but her nose wasn't moving.

Ronan and Flynn were peering from the door closer to Kestrel. Wylan scrunched up his nose at the eavesdropping boys. What right did they have to watch this thrilling piece of soon-to-be gossip? Then he remembered what he was doing.

Footsteps quickly pattered down the stairs. Lydia ran up to Kestrel and Trudy holding out a piece of paper. Her floral pyjamas had patches of darkened colours on the front.

"Thank you, sweetie," Trudy whispered. "You were so good staying with her. Go and try and get some sleep."

Lydia nodded and scuttled away. Kestrel eyed the paper.

"Is that Ebony's number?" she sniffed.

"Yes," Trudy hushed her. "Come and sit down. We'll just phone her and it will all be better. You'll know it's all over and Ebony will tell you it's fine."

Trudy guided Kestrel out of sight to the telephone table. Flynn and Ronan slid as subtly as they could up the hall to see what was going on.

"Three," Jesper muttered.

"Two," Wylan continued.

"One," they both grinned.

Trudy let out a loud sigh. Her arms flapped at Ronan and Flynn as they quickly retreated back to their room.

"All of you!" she cried, pointing at the boys. "And all of you!" she cried, pointing upwards towards the landing. "Back to bed. Leave Kestrel in peace please."

Not wanting to get on Trudy's bad side, two doors slammed and three sets of footsteps padded away upstairs. Wylan threw himself onto his bed and pulled the covers over him.

"That girl is made tears, snot and gunk," he yawned, snuggling into his pillow.

Before he fell asleep, he heard the sound of Jesper tutting.

If Wylan thought he had started his day badly, he was met with an even worse problem when he woke up at the correct time. It was fine to begin with. Wylan managed to do up his tie in under ten seconds, get the first pick of cereal and finish his last minute French homework decently.

Then Kestrel poked him in the back.

He turned around to see a cleaned up version of Kestrel. Nicci seemed to have tried to clean up the lines under her friend's eyes, but it had failed miserably. Instead of purple half formed circles there was a smudge of darker foundation.

"Have you checked the suggestion box yet?" she asked.

Wylan's stomach dropped. If his maths was correct, which was poor but good enough for one plus one, he had one day until Friday and he still hadn't told Victor about the slips of paper in the box.

He swore lightly and went to grab the box. He rushed to Victor's office hammering the floorboards expecting them to cave in after every step. Wylan gave himself five seconds to flatten his uniform and swish his hair to one side to make him look respectable. He had to look like anyone could trust him.

With a knock on the door, Wylan walked into the office.

"Victor!" he shone his charm across to the man. "Just the man I've been looking for. Have you had the opportunity to count the cards?"

Victor's eyes met Wylan with the same coldness he gave to everyone else.

"Counted the cards, Mr Peters?" he repeated. "What do you mean counted the cards?"

"Take a look at the overall agreement of your students!"

Wylan tried to pry the lid of the box open. One of his fingernails almost snapped in the process. Victor leaned forward to easily slide the back of the box up.

"Oh, right," Wylan huffed.

He watched in anticipation as Victor took eight pieces of paper from the box. Tantalisingly, he opened one piece. A frown appeared. He opened a second. His lips pursed. He opened the third, the fourth, the fifth. Victor's face grew stormier and stormier as he got further through the 'suggestions'.

When he opened the last note, a strange smile appeared. He pocketed this one before looking back up to Wylan.

"You think that you are so smart?" he cried. "Well, it looks like you are very _very_ good at getting other people to do your own work. Fine! You win!"

"Really?" Wylan asked.

Surely it wasn't that simple. He had outsmarted Victor!

"But," Wylan's shoulder slumped, "you must learn how to clean with something called a broom and a pair of washing up gloves."

"Fine!" he moaned.

* * *

For the first time throughout the whole week, Iris managed to get into the bathroom without having to line up. She pushed the lock across the door before she dumped her washbag in the sink.

Inside the bag were lots of bottles. The one Iris took out had a picture of a model with a pixie burgundy haircut. Carefully, she opened it and smelt the gloopy mixture inside. It smelled like it usually did of oil and burned crayons. Why Iris knew what burned crayons smelt like was an interesting event with Nicci last year in an experimentive art lesson.

She squirted a tiny drop onto her hand to test whether it would burn her. Her finger didn't itch or peel away any of her skin so no one had tampered with it again.

Half an hour later, Iris' hair was tied up with a towel. She used another one to wrap around her body and attempted to balance her bag in her hands as well. With the skill she had perfected over the years, Iris managed to undo the lock and slip out into the corridor.

A strange sparkling caught her eyes. She looked down at an orb connected to silver chain. The necklace had a beautiful shine to it. Crouching down, Iris noticed something inside the orb. A purple crystal sat on the base of the sphere which traced the top of it.

Quickly she padded back to her and Nicci's room. Nicci was sitting in front of her dressing table with a hairbrush in her hand. She looked at Iris in the mirror and her cheeks suddenly began to flush.

"Put on some clothes," she cried.

"Don't look," Iris winked.

Nicci squeezed her hands over her eyes in order to not get a single peep of Iris. With a dressing gown on now, Iris left the room to grab her necklace. She definitely hadn't imagined it. The crystal beckoned her to pick it up.

The glass was cold to the touch. Iris cradled it until she sat down on her bed. Carefully she slipped it around her neck, clicking the clasp and shutting it into place.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Nicci asked.

"Oh yeah," Iris realised. "You could've ages ago."

"Thank you!" Nicci cried.

She flicked her hands away from her eyes with a flourish. Turquoise nail polish flashed in Iris' eyes, but she didn't blink. Her eyes were instead trained on the crystal. There was an aura around it that she had never felt before.

Nicci swivelled around to Iris. She brushed through her already immaculate shoulder length, dark brown hair. A gasp escaped her lips.

"Ooooh," she whispered. "You're actually wearing a necklace! Finally, you are learning what it's like to experiment. You just wait until you get into your flower crown month. Or the neckties. I still have one in my suitcase that I haven't found a place for yet."

"I'm not going through a fashion phase!" Iris snapped.

"Okay then," Nicci put up her hands. "I guess the hair and six piercings aren't a fashion choice at all!"

"I'm just going to get dressed and go downstairs."

The dining room table and chairs had been moved to the side when Iris finally arrived. Flynn was doing something weird with a knife and some fruit in the kitchen. She decided to leave him in peace when he was immersed in the knife cutting.

Ronan was leaning over the new stereo in the corner. He wore a collared shirt and black trousers. His hair was the same slicked back dark brown style that he had during school time, but Iris didn't mind. It was nice of him to try to dress up.

The tapes in Ronan's hands almost took back Iris' joy that Ronan was trying to learn how a party worked. Among the titles were Party Music for Tweens which had music dated from five years ago, Atomistic Background and a story tape by Enid Blyton. Tutting, Iris sympathetically took them from him.

"These aren't the best for creating friends if anyone finds out you chose these," she said.

A black bin bag hung from the edge of a photo frame. Iris closed an eye and flung a tape through the air. Ronan yelled in shock. It landed right on target.

"Noddy isn't the best audio book for a fifteen-year-old," Iris teased.

"I'll have you know it was the Famous Five," Ronan answered rigidly. "Now if you'll excuse, Flynn looks like he needs help."

"Yes, Ronan," Flynn said unexpectedly. "Come and help me."

Iris shivered slightly at the stare he gave to her. Hurriedly she busied herself with the music.

Wylan and Jesper walked through the kitchen, in order to grab a bowl of crisps and get to the living room by the least tasking path. They split up before Wylan reached Iris.

"Hey!" he grinned. "How you doing?"

"Fantastic," Iris answered. "What do you think of this?"

She held up one of the few CDs which gained a nod of approval. Iris felt a hand settle on her right shoulder as Wylan leaned in on her left.

"That's a nice necklace you have on," he whispered. "And your hair has a new shine to it."

It took a moment for Iris' instinct to kick in and realise what Wylan was doing. Heat rushed into her cheeks and her knees began to shake. She carefully lifted her hand up to his, but before she could move it herself the front door opened with the sound of chatter.

Wylan slipped away from Iris and grinned at her. Iris didn't snap out of her daze until Kestrel managed to persuade her with a delicious slice of pizza.

* * *

 **Hey! I've ticked a few of my writing list this chapter. Start a party? Check. Cause one of the characters to have a mini breakdown? (Surprisingly fun [I need to visit a doctor about that]) Check. Mentioning Enid Blyton, Noddy and the Famous Five? Check.**

 **The reviews last week weren't showing for a while, but has fixed that problem for most stories now. Hopefully there won't be any errors in the website this week!**

 **Thank you for reading this chapter! See you next week!**


	8. House of Whispers

A sanctuary was a rare blessing at a boarding school when you couldn't even have a shower without someone knocking on the door or sleep on your own. For Flynn they were in the strangest places and appeared at the weirdest times. In the middle of a party of about half the school, Flynn found a peaceful aura coming from the kitchen.

Only Trudy occasionally walked in from the laundry room to check whether the bowls were full. He was able to make himself a fruit salad with no one bothering him. Well almost no one…

"Move!" Nicci cried from the doorway.

Flynn turned around to see Nicci attempting to pull Lydia into the kitchen. Nicci wasn't very tall, but Lydia was somehow a couple of inches shorter. It was an easy task for Nicci to drag her properly into the kitchen.

Lydia stumbled forward into the centre counter. Pink tinged the edges of her face. Nicci clapped her hands in delight at succeeding her task. She swayed slightly on the balls of her feet watching Lydia brush down her floral shirt.

"Is there anything wrong?" Flynn asked.

Lydia quickly shook her head, but her cheeks grew brighter. Flynn sighed internally. Every time he tried to help Lydia she would always push him away. Maybe it was nothing other than Nicci's games, although most people needed saving from Nicci's bubbly nature when it got too far.

"And socialise!" Nicci grinned excitedly. She turned on her heels and shouted behind her, "And don't be such party poopers!"

"I'm sorry about Nicci," Lydia whispered.

"Well, it's Nicci," Flynn smiled. "It's a bad idea to disobey her perfect plans."

"Yeah," Lydia stayed quiet.

She eyed the chopping board of fruit. Flynn pointed to it with the tip of his knife.

"Would you like some?" he offered.

"Um… okay."

Flynn quickly placed the best looking fruit onto a plastic face in the shape of a smiley face. He handed the plate to Lydia and watched for her reaction. Her mouth opened slightly in the shape of an o. She was happy at his smiley face!

Warmth and a new sense of confidence filled him. Someone was glad of his actions. Maybe he could make a new friend this year that trusted him. He wouldn't be stuck with Ronan and himself any longer. Both of them were too rigid for his liking.

"You like it?" Flynn asked eagerly.

"It's okay," Lydia said. "I didn't expect you to be good at cooking."

"Do you really know nothing about cooking to not know that you don't cook fruit salad?" he laughed

"You know what I meant. I expected you to be cold and a bully."

"A bully?" Flynn repeated.

Lydia had thought he was a bully. He had heard some cruel weak-sighted things in the past, but hearing it from her lips was something different. Lydia was sweet, innocent and, most of all, kind. She would never hurt anyone unless they deserved it, or she thought they did. The rumours surely weren't that bad?

The awkward silence was broken when the clattering of boots announced Iris' arrival. Flynn gladly turned to talk to her. Iris was smiling ear-to-studded-ear. She was followed with Kestrel hot on her trail. Unlike her best friend, Kestrel looked deeply concerned.

Suddenly Iris stopped. Her eyes struggled to look up into Flynn's, but as soon as they did they shot back down to his chest. Kestrel stood next to her with her arms folded.

"I'm just going to… leave," Lydia spoke meekly.

"Wait, Lydia!"

But Lydia had already run out into the hall. Flynn looked down at the two girls in front of him. Each of them glared up at him. The girls this evening were definitely strange.

Strange unworldly girls.

* * *

Lydia sat as close to the arm of the sofa as she possibly could. Wylan, Jesper and a few of their friends were discussing the start of the football season. As much as Lydia wished she could join in, she didn't have any idea what caused a corner kick or what a Lampard was. It sounded more like a piece of furniture, but she wasn't going to ask about it.

The other reason was Wylan. Oh Wylan! He gave her goose bumps every time he spoke to her. And that scared her so much, but thrilled her as well. The love that flowed through her body suddenly would become hot – hot like the warmed blackcurrant her mum would make her.

But something always stopped Lydia from enjoying herself. She didn't want the love to stop. If she talked to him and he turned her down, she would be distraught for days. There was no time for that. Or at least that was the excuse she kept giving herself.

Suddenly Nicci appeared in a flurry of green. The dress she wore was definitely unique. Its pattern was what Lydia assumed to be artistic, because it wasn't a pattern she would ever put on a dress. Military style splodges covered the front of it and brown lined the edges of the different shades of green. When Nicci spun around, the splodges formed together in a spiral.

"Come on!" Nicci cried, grabbing hold of Lydia's arm.

"Whoa!" Lydia gasped. "What are you doing?"

Nicci didn't want to give a reply. Instead she dragged Lydia through the groups of people while Lydia sputtered about not wanting to do whatever she was about to do.

"Don't be so dull," Nicci giggled.

The grip she held was surprisingly strong which didn't falter even when Allie and Lily ambushed them. Nicci quickly shook them off.

Lydia didn't have longer than thirty seconds to wonder what Nicci was scheming. Flynn was visible above the crowd standing on his own in the kitchen. In his hand was a long knife that was slicing something on the table.

"No no no no no," Lydia moaned under her breath.

"Yes yes yes yes yes," Nicci chanted back.

Lydia tried to drag her heels into the floor, but she failed.

"Move!" Nicci shouted at her, pulling her into the kitchen.

Lydia slipped across the floor into the counter. Her hands closely missed a bowl of crisps dip to her relief, but she hadn't missed Flynn's attention.

"Is there anything wrong?" he asked.

Not wanting to talk to him, Lydia shook her head. She didn't want to talk to _him_. She would talk to anybody in the world except _him_. Well, everyone except Wylan.

Heat rushed through her cheeks at the thought of her crush. What would it be like if she was talking to Wylan instead? It would be much dreamier than talking to the outcast. Even though she didn't talk to many people either, she chose it. Flynn was always rejected by everyone he tried to talk to.

"And socialise!" Nicci smiled from the doorway. "And don't be such party poopers!"

"I'm sorry about Nicci," Lydia heard herself whispering.

"Well, it's Nicci. It's a bad idea to disobey her perfect plans."

The smile on his lips spooked her. It was strange to see the secluded boy being friendly.

"Yeah," Lydia stayed quiet.

Suddenly she noticed the knife in Flynn's hand. The glint on its edge matched the steely past that Lydia had heard about Flynn. They had started almost as soon as the second year began. No one was free of them before that week had ended.

Lydia moved her attention to something else before Flynn could notice. The freshly carved fruit sat comfortably in a bowl on the side counter. Juice slipped down the side of the bowl. They were the newest victims of Flynn's knife.

"Would you like some?" he offered.

"Um… okay," she mumbled.

He took a plate of fruit from the side and handed it to her. A mango smile and grape eyes were facing her. The childish fruit face surprised Lydia. What was he trying to do?

Tentatively she bit into the slice of mango. The sweet taste filled her mouth. It was surprisingly tasty. Flynn smiled again.

"You like it?" Flynn asked.

"It's okay," Lydia said. "I didn't expect you to be good at cooking."

"Do you really know nothing about cooking to not know that you don't cook fruit salad?"

"You know what I meant," Lydia rolled her eyes. "I expected you to be cold and a bully."

"A bully?"

Lydia choked on her food once she realised what she said. Tears stung her eyes from the choking and the guilt. That wasn't supposed to have come out of her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that!

But did he deserve an apology? It was the truth after all. He had never denied what everyone said he did or tried to say something else about the topic.

She stood, examining the half mauled face on her plate. It glared lopsided at her. Flynn's cooking definitely reflected him.

Iris and Kestrel clattered into the kitchen with the best timing. They stopped right in front of Flynn, distracting his attention from her. Lydia took the opportunity to slowly back towards the door.

"I'm just going to… leave," she said weakly.

"Wait, Lydia!"

Lydia dropped her plate in the bin on her run out of the room. She fled upstairs to her room and collapsed onto her bed. That had been terrible! Why had Nicci thought she could talk to people? All she did was embarrass herself.

* * *

Kestrel and Iris were silent as they waited for Flynn to do something. But Flynn didn't. He only rubbed his forehead in frustration. Was he in the mood for the staring and gawking and silence around him? No.

But whenever was he?

Nicci was trying. He could see that Nicci had tried to help him _socialise_ , but it wasn't doing anything. Happiness and dreams couldn't be thrust upon anyone so easily. No one could be happy whenever they felt like it. The proof was right in front of him.

Kestrel's eyes continuously flitted between him and Iris' necklace. It was nothing special. The glass orb contained a purple crystal inside which was held by a silver chain. But lots of people wore necklaces like that.

"Listen," Flynn sighed. "Unless you want to talk to me, then leave. I don't want you to keep on staring at me."

Flynn was surprised when Kestrel did talk.

"We were just discussing Iris' new necklace."

"It is a very nice necklace," Flynn said.

"Yes, but isn't it more than just nice!" Kestrel insisted. "Doesn't it have a shine to it?"

"I guess it does."

"And doesn't it look familiar?"

Kestrel leaned forward on her toes to attempt to reach Flynn's height. Her eyes widened in anticipation and eagerness. The interest in her face was contorted with pain. Flynn shrugged. A sigh escaped Kestrel's lips.

"That's excellent news," she smiled with relief. "We'll just be leaving. Come on Iris!"

Kestrel slipped her arm around Iris', but she didn't seem to notice. Iris hadn't moved since she spotted Flynn. Sudden shame slipped through him as he realised what she was looking at. His hand reached up to his forehead.

The rough bump of a scar jutted out of him. The skin had healed the best way it ever could years ago, but it was still visible when people wanted to see to. Iris already wanted to see the scar.

"Iris," Kestrel elbowed her friend.

She came out of her trance with a gasp of pain. Rubbing her ribs, she blinked widely at Flynn.

"Let's go," Iris said as clear as her sharp judging glare.

Flynn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As cliché as it sounded he could feel the tension in the air leaving. This was entirely the reason he never asked for the party. Now he was at the mercy of the stares and the whispers. The worst of that night's came from Kestrel's lips.

"I thought he was going to set you on fire with his glare."

Iris' shaky laugh shattered Flynn's hopes of making any friends that year like every other one the years before.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Thanks for reading this week's chapter. It was a slight experimentation chapter with the same event occurring but with different POVs and thoughts being shown. This will be important in the future and I'd love to know whether it was good or not so I can alter the writing style for future events.**

 **Unfortunately due to revision for exams [insert sarcastic voice]** ** _which I'm looking forward to so much,_** **I'm not updating for the next two weeks. Regular updates will continue on 17th June. If there are any questions or anything PM me!**


	9. House of Understanding

Wylan's stomach growled in anticipation as he eyed up the table full of goodies. His eyes flicked from the angel delight to the pineapple upside down cake to the apple and rhubarb crumble. The wide selection with crystals of glittering sugar beckoned Wylan to pick them and not the other half baked attempts at puddings.

Without realising it, Wylan grabbed a serving spoon to drop a large scoop of angel delight into a bowl. He turned around to meet the smiling face of Jesper.

"Thanks mate!"

Jesper outstretched hands took the bowl from his friend. Before he was able to protest, Wylan watched Jesper eat a spoonful. Just to make sure the pudding was his, he licked the spoon.

"Don't make stupid bets," Jesper said through the angel delight dripping from his front teeth.

Wylan smiled as best he could, trying to refrain from pushing the bowl into Jesper's face. That would be a very low thing for him to do. There were much better things for him to do such as a) moan to some girls, b) get another bowl of angel delight or c) strike up a conversation about the poisonous look Iris was now giving them behind Jesper's shoulder.

For the first time in an hour, Wylan noticed Iris had managed to stop Kestrel from trailing behind her. Then his eyes dropped down to her chest. Sitting against it was a strangely charming necklace. It had a nice twinkle to it, but the purple colour wasn't very attractive. Against Iris' burgundy hair, the light purple didn't match.

The knot inside Wylan relaxed as his growing distaste of the necklace dimmed his original attraction to it.

"Oi!" Iris cried. "Eyes up front!"

Wylan quickly stood to attention as Iris grabbed his hair. Their eyes briefly met. The peaceful blue-grey of Iris' eyes couldn't calm the fire beginning to rage behind them.

"You do that again I won't be afraid to slap you," she warned, her cheeks searing a peculiar feeling inside Wylan.

"Yeah sure," he mumbled.

His mind burned from the feeling Iris was giving him. It made his own cheeks match Iris' and a sudden dampness covered the back of his neck. What was this? He couldn't understand why he was feeling like this. Then it hit him.

Guilt.

He swore under his breath at his body's reaction. When was the last time he had felt guilty? He could easily pick out one point he had been, but from little things like this he wasn't as sure. Guilt hadn't run through his veins since he had a ridiculous haircut which (he was very glad to say) no one at Anubis had seen.

"What!" Iris exclaimed. "Did you just swear at me?"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Wylan cried. "I was just thinking about something, I swear."

"Really?" Iris said with mock surprise. "Well, if it's 'something' then I guess that lets you off the hook."

Stupidly, Wylan relaxed his shoulders, thinking he had escaped the grasp of Iris. The inevitable laugh escaped from Iris quickly. Wylan couldn't help noticing the drop in chatter around him.

"You really are a jerk; you know that?" Iris cried above the music. "Some people can read others like a book whereas you don't seem to understand what the simple technique of sarcasm is. I'm really surprised you're still the guy you have been last year and the year before that and the year–"

"Iris, we get it," Jesper cut in. "Wylan can sometimes be a bit…" he waved his hand around while trying to find a word, "literal, but he is a really good guy. Trust me."

"I would trust you if you weren't friends with this kid. How could you," she turned back to Wylan, "not be able to pick up anything from Jesper? He is kind and generous and understands when to walk away. In fact, he never has had to walk away!"

"Leave me out of this Iris," Jesper murmured.

"Then don't interrupt me when I'm ranting 'cause when I'm ranting you are not going to hear the end of it very soon. So, Wylan Peters, what was the real reason for that shoulder drop and the eyes?"

Wylan shrugged.

This tore Iris limb-from-limb. She drove her arm forward to whack Wylan across the face. The sting shocked him out of his sulk about the guilt. Even though he couldn't understand what he had done, he knew he had done something wrong.

Whispers suddenly erupted around him. The little pockets of people earlier had collided to make a clustered circle around the heated argument. A couple of laughs came from some boys in Wylan's sports class.

Iris' temper caved in on itself. Her eyes began to shimmer with unbroken tears at what she had done, but she managed to smile widely at it. She exchanged looks with Jesper before wiping away the tears.

Flynn pushed his way easily past the giggling Isis girls led by Allie and Lily. He grabbed Iris by the shoulders and gently led her towards the sofa. Nicci quickly appeared at her roommate's other side. She didn't even seem to notice the support she was getting.

"And the wailing begins, huh, Wailer?" Jesper grinned.

Wylan pushed the bowl into Jesper's face.

* * *

The night air was cool against the collar of Ronan's shirt. He sat on the wall looking away from Anubis House. The loud ruckus from his home had been deafening. Now the hum of the last dying wasps was welcome.

He suspected Kestrel was feeling like that as well when he had bumped into her in the entrance hall. She was more flustered than usual, but it could've been a normal reaction to dancing. Ronan wasn't really that sure. He thought parties were full of classical music and people in fancy outfits most people would wear to weddings.

"Sorry," she had said when she almost stepped on his toe.

Ronan had been about to leave when she turned back quickly.

"Could I borrow your weekly phone call?" she asked.

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I was kind of forced to use mine," Kestrel smiled weakly.

Ronan didn't think twice before nodding. Her smile grew stronger as she cocked her head to the side in thanks.

It wasn't as if Ronan needed his phone call anyway. His father was usually the one to phone to check up on his education and that was about it. The problem with having all of your friends within a two-minute walk was that your friends were within a two-minute walk. There was no one for him to call.

There was also the new present from his father. It was common knowledge that Ronan was rich and he didn't bother denying it. So he was always stocked up on the newest technology. Although he had _accidently_ left his Nokia at his house, he had brought his new laptop stocked with email.

A sudden dip in the noise coming from behind him caused Ronan to turn around. The curtains hid all of the teenagers inside meaning he couldn't see anything at all.

When he turned around, he saw a person walking across the field in front of him. He squinted to try and recognise who it was. The figure was spindly with a ponytail. Definitely a woman, but which one was it?

"Hello Ronan."

The voice triggered the parasite that had been crawling around Ronan for the last week. The deep tone broke the calm of the evening. Suddenly his pounding headache from the music disappeared.

"Hello," he replied.

The man sat down on the wall at an arm's reach away. His usual leather jacket was against a light grey shirt. Piercing blue eyes crept across Ronan's face.

"Is the party too much for you?" Rufus asked.

"I just needed a break," Ronan shrugged, looking the other way.

A silence developed amongst the two. Ronan continued to stare at the woman walking towards the school. She stopped moving and turned towards them. An arm reached into the air to wave at them. Rufus waved back.

"Do you know her?" Ronan ventured.

"Why would I be waving at her if I didn't?" Rufus smiled.

"Is she nice?"

"Very nice and sweet. She understands me unlike others. You need someone like that. Goodness knows why we aren't understood more though."

Ronan felt a lump form in his throat. It was true that not many people talked to him as their first choice, but at least he tried. From the psychopathic man he had seen two days ago, Rufus wasn't a people person. It had been intimidating to watch him stand up against Victor.

Was Rufus comparing himself to Ronan? A shiver ran across his back. He definitely wasn't a psychopath. But why was he reacting so strongly to Rufus' words?

"Why are you talking to me?" Ronan asked.

"Because you're a lonely kid, Ronan," Rufus breathed into the night air. "You deserve to be better than that."

"You don't know anything about me."

"Really? I know that you weren't originally roommates with Flynn and that Iris despises you for allowing him to move from the sofa to your room."

Ronan turned to Rufus, his face as white as a sheet. That had been agreed to never be spoken of outside of the house. All eight of Anubis House had sat around the dining table and joined their hands to never speak of it again. Only Victor and Trudy had overlooked it, but neither of them had been pleased. It was the first time Trudy had lied to Mr Sweet.

"Now do you know I have more knowledge than you realised?" Rufus shuffled closer to Ronan.

"Yeah," Ronan mumbled.

"And if you want to be understood more, will you help me?"

Ronan frowned. Rufus stared patiently at the boy.

"It depends what with," he whispered.

Rufus sighed. He looked behind them at the house. Whatever had happened to the music before, it was back in full swing again. The anxious look Rufus gave the window above the front door made Ronan look too.

The shadow of a man in a long coat was silhouetted against it. Slowly it moved away.

"I need your word first that you'll never speak to anyone about this," Rufus kept his voice low. "Victor would kill me if he realised I told you."

Ronan laughed solemnly, but Rufus didn't. The frown stayed firmly in place.

"He'd kill you too or make sure you won't speak again at least. I've seen what he can do. That's why I need your help to stop whatever he's going to do next."

Rufus stuck out his hand to Ronan.

"Promise?"

Ronan's hand slipped into Rufus'. His firm grip shook Ronan's arm before loosening slightly. To his surprise, a grin spread across Rufus' face. He leaned over to hug Ronan tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered in his ear. "You are about to start the best journey of your life."

* * *

 **Y** **ay! All of my exams are over and summer has begun... sort of. People in Britain still have school for about a month, but it's mainly school trips, extra topics and sports day (to humiliate people like me and my friends). So updates should be back to weekly until the start of August where, unless I can somehow get a computer which is unlikely, I won't be able to update while I'm on holiday. After that I can't think of anything else until Christmas when this story is going to be around its end.**

 **This chapter hopefully shows the unseen part of Rufus and shows how he started his journey to when he was first seen in HOA. He definitely is an interesting character and some of the events will have a large effect on him and Anubis.**

 **I'm looking forward to next chapter so much because it's almost going to be all from Iris' POV. There's a special event I've been wanting to write since I first read ethereal skies' brilliant character profile for her.**

 **If anyone has any constructive criticism, suggestions for events/what or who you would like to see or have questions about the story, then review or PM me.**


	10. House of Ghosts

Iris' boots clicked back and forth around the entrance hall, waiting for Kestrel to talk to her. Her best friend had been sitting at the telephone table for five minutes and hadn't spoken a word. Instead she held the phone close to her ear with her mouth pursed slightly. Whoever was on the other end of the line was taking their sweet time talking to her.

Eventually, Kestrel began to whisper softly into the receiver. As much as Iris tried to listen in, the music was too loud to hear what Kestrel was saying. It didn't help that a strange bell-like sound was coming from upstairs.

Craning her neck upwards, Iris tried to peer through the blinds of Victor's office, but, even if they were open, the angle meant she would only be able to see the ceiling. It wasn't unusual to hear something being hammered to smithereens or thrown across his desk. However, the tinkling was gentler than Iris was used to hearing.

The door distracted her from her hunt. Ronan slipped inside and quickly shut the door behind him. His cheeks were flushed more than Lydia's strawberry blonde hair and that was saying something. When he caught sight of Iris, he jumped back.

"Whatcha doing out there?" Iris asked curiously.

She heard Kestrel falter in her conversation. Ronan looked back to the girl who was twiddling the wire around her little finger.

"I needed some fresh air," Ronan answered with his eyes still looking at Kestrel.

"Is that it?" Iris said disappointed.

"I'm afraid that it… is," Ronan drifted off when he turned to Iris.

His eyes slowly drifted down to her necklace. Iris grabbed it protectively.

"My eyes are up here," she snapped.

"Iris, calm down."

Iris backed away as she heard Flynn's calm voice. He stood in the doorway to the living room, his head almost grazing the top of the frame.

"Don't sneak up on me!" Iris cried. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"He was just admiring your necklace," Flynn said smoothly, not raising his voice like Iris was. "It was the same for Wylan, but you jumped on him."

"He was looking at…"

Iris crossed her arms across her chest while still grasping the crystal's orb in her hand. Her sour glare stabbed at Flynn, but instead of slinking away like she expected him to, he walked up to her.

"Try to look deeper than what you mind is tricking you into thinking," he said.

His hands were about to rest on her shoulders when Ronan cleared his throat. Iris breathed a sigh of relief at Ronan's interruption. For once, he had been able to analyse a situation, get past his social awkwardness and understand she was uncomfortable and likely to lash out at Flynn if he touched her again. First he had sat with an arm around her shoulder without her consent and now he was talking as if they were friends.

A soft cling announced Kestrel had put the phone back on the receiver. Iris watched from the corner of her eye as her friend slowly stood up. Her eyes were fixed on a point just to the right of Flynn. Iris knew that she was trying to look as if she was concentrating on what was happening, but she was in a world of her own.

Kestrel's distance was the last straw for Iris. She didn't care what Flynn had to say. He always lied anyway. He hadn't changed at all since the accident unlike herself. Iris had at least had the decency to control her temper.

She blinked widely at this thought. Her temper had definitely not been on point today. She could do better than this. But not with Flynn. Never with Flynn.

"I'm going to bed," Iris sulked.

"But it's only half past eight," Ronan objected.

"Do I look like I care?" Iris' temper began to flare.

She walked backwards from Flynn, keeping her eyes on him all of the time. Once she felt her boots hit the staircase, she turned to run up it. Kestrel came out of her trance enough to watch Iris reach the landing.

"Let her go," Flynn said to Kestrel. "She needs time to think about… certain things."

Iris opened the door to the girls' corridor and leaned against the wall. She breathed heavily from her mouth, not caring about the sick feeling covering the back of her throat.

The strange tinkling noise grew in Iris' ears. She looked down the corridor, but there was nothing there. There was something peculiar about it. Unearthly detached sobs were coming from around the corner. Never before had Iris heard someone cry so delicately.

Slowly, Iris pushed herself away from the wall where her grey shirt had started to stick to it from the trails of sweat slipping down her back. She tried to be as silent as possible, managing to muffle her boot heels to padding. Iris peered around the corner and was shocked by what she found.

A slim girl sat with her back to the door of the attic. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, hiding her face in the simple fabric of her ghostly white dress. The dress created a childish atmosphere about the girl, but the crying shattered Iris' heart at the sight of an innocent girl being isolated by whatever had happened to her.

She would've seemed at least slightly normal, but there were three parts of her that Iris was unnerved by. First, her feet were bare. No shoes or socks covered them and the toes were perfectly shaped. Not a single blemish caressed her skin.

Secondly, her hair was in beautiful waves. They weren't uncontrollable curls or only one piece being unbelievable straight. All sections of her hair had the same depth and buoyancy.

Finally, Iris could see the attic door. She stared right through the girl to the wooden door behind her. It was impossible! It was a miracle! She couldn't be real, but she could hear her as clearly as anything else in the world.

She was a goddess of moonlight.

"Hello?" Iris called tentatively.

The girl continued to weep into the folds of her gossamer dress. She didn't react to Iris' voice.

"Are you alright?"

Without an answer, Iris stepped closer to the girl. Her boots were beating in time to every fourth thud of her heart. It racing out of control at the unbelievable apparition in front of her. What was she? A lost child? An angel? A ghost?

Was she even alive?

The questions began to spiral out of control until she was within an arm's reach of the girl. Iris crouched down, bouncing back up twice before settling. She leaned closer so that she was almost touching the top of her hair.

"Are you real?"

The girl stopped crying. She suddenly whipped her head up to look straight into Iris' eyes. Her own eyes were misty and there was no distinct colour except the brown oak of the attic door.

"You can see me?" she asked.

"Of course I can," Iris replied.

They were silent for a couple of seconds before the girl let out a shrill shriek. Iris fell backwards and clapped her hands over her ears. When she looked back up, the girl had disappeared. She spun around to check behind her, but there wasn't a magical trail leading Iris to wherever the girl had gone.

The teenager stood up and dusted herself off. No matter how much Trudy tried to hover the floor it would always become dirty in some way or another. Maybe it was the ghostly girl's fault.

Iris traced her hand along the very solid wood of the door. Nothing unusual stuck out to her. It was a very normal door. Her hand was resting on the golden rusting handle when it turned on its own. She jumped back in alarm, but it continued to turn.

The narrow staircase revealed behind it wasn't what Iris expected. She had never been graced with an opportunity to explore any of the forbidden areas of the house, but now a mysterious power had unlocked the obstacles. There wasn't the shadow of a second thought as Iris walked up the stairs.

Another door was wide open to a circular room filled with piles of junk. White sheets lay over large structures amongst chests and antique equipment. One chest in particular was the base that a stack of books rested on. Sitting next to it was the girl.

Her chin was propped on her right knee as her left leg swayed back and forth to the rhythm of a song Iris couldn't hear. The translucent eyes stared into the distance.

Iris closed the door behind her, trapping herself with the girl. It clicked shut. The girl's head snapped towards her. It looked older than Iris expected, but it was still pretty. Her complexion was immaculate, her nose was petite and her lips were semi-full. The size of the eyes told Iris that the girl wasn't a child at all. She was her age.

"Hello," the girl's whisper carried across the room. "You are the flower."

It wasn't a question. The girl knew who Iris was, or at least acted like she did.

"My name is Iris," the student said. "What's your name?"

"My name is… my name?" the girl went back to staring again. "What is my name? No one has asked me that for years."

"Years?" Iris repeated shocked.

"Five years I think. That isn't that much though. It's been an interesting five years. So much drama in this house. So much infectious drama…"

The girl drifted away again as if she was in a dream. Iris certainly believe that she was. She was talking to a transparent girl whose mystical appearance was throwing her perception of her to the other end of the spectrum every time she did something. First she was a child, then she was a teenager and now she was an amnesiac woman.

"What are you?" Iris asked.

"What do you mean?" she spoke to the opposite wall.

"I can see straight through you. There's a large book three times the size of the others that you're leaning against."

The girl looked behind her to examine the book.

"You're right," she mused. "Well, I guess it makes sense you can see through me. I'm not part of my body anymore after all."

Iris bit her lip before venturing to the darker territory of this girl. She seemed calm enough to be talking to her and aware of what she was so Iris thought that she wouldn't be disgusted by what she would ask.

"Are you a ghost?"

The girl jumped off of the chest and walked close to Iris' face. A cold aura surrounded her that she hadn't felt downstairs.

"I, miss, am not a ghost! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Iris squeaked against the sudden outburst. The misty borders of the girl's body gave her a spooky effect.

"Good," the girl grinned.

She bounced back to her chest to sit back in her original position. A wave twirled around her little finger.

"I don't like the g word," the girl whispered. "I don't haunt people, you know. The predator thinks I still haunt him, but I don't. I got bored with that ages ago. Now I just watch whatever the eight people in this house do."

She suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm actually speaking to one of them," her voice was muffled against it. "I'm speaking to the flower!"

She jumped off the chest again, but this time with joy spread across her face. The girl danced over to Iris, letting her dress swirl out into rings of cloth. However, when she reached for Iris' hands, she flinched backwards.

"Oh no," she whispered disappointedly. "I can't touch you."

"Why not?" Iris asked.

She tried to grab the girl's hands, but her own slipped straight through them. A cold sensation burned her skin, causing her to squeal in pain.

"Can't touch, can't touch, can't touch," the girl chanted to herself.

She backed slowly away from Iris towards the door. Her arms hugged herself in comfort. The ritual the girl was doing sent the burning to Iris' heart as well. The girl drifted through the door and disappeared.

A sparkle glinted from Iris' chest. She looked down to see the purple crystal inside the orb twinkling. Quickly she scooped it into her open palm. The gleam died away as she tried to keep her eyes trained on whatever the strange piece of jewellery was doing.

"What are you?" she asked, unaware of whether she was asking about the girl or the necklace.

* * *

 **And the mystery continues! I know that some of you are wondering who on earth this girl is, but the only thing I'm going to say is that she is very important. Nothing more, nothing less. Except that she is my OC that I'm going to insert into the story. She is part of the main characters once Iris begins to solve her history and existence.**

 **A special thank you to all of the reviews from last week's chapter. Ronan definitely has got himself into some trouble and I'm pleased that people can see the parallels between them. Also don't worry about Wylan and Iris. The gap between them isn't too big that it can't be repaired yet.**


	11. House of Confidence

The dread of tests quickly settled on everyone after the relaxation of a well-earned weekend. Everyone that was except Kestrel. Lydia sat with an open book nibbling into a pancake that Trudy had cooked as a special request by Iris. Victor had surprisingly allowed them to have sugary food for their first meal of the day and had come downstairs to take a plate for himself.

Kestrel walked in with her tie thrown over her shoulder and her history book in her hand. She dropped the book on the table which opened on a blank page with only the homework question at the top. Lydia's pancake loosened in her hand as she stared at the lack of homework Kestrel had. A strawberry slid out of the open end of her pancake with a dull thud.

Iris looked over from her plate of three pancakes and the sugar bowl.

"Really, Kestrel?" she laughed. "Even I wasn't stupid enough to leave this to the last minute. You do realise that this is an essay with four _very_ long paragraphs and a conclusion on who was to blame for the start of the war?"

"Yep," Kestrel replied with her pen already scribbling out the messy first sentence.

"Sweetie," Trudy's disapproving voice came from the kitchen. "You aren't doing homework are you?"

"Nope!" she called back merrily.

Trudy leaned on the counter to look through the gap in the wall at Kestrel. An unbelieving smile and raised eyebrows made Lydia bite her lip to try not to lie from Kestrel's obvious lie.

"Well you definitely are doing homework, because you haven't noticed the wonderful food in front of you."

Kestrel absentmindedly lifted her head to the plate of pancakes. Her face lit up as she realised what was there.

"Thank you Trudy!" she cried grabbing the plate.

Lydia, Trudy and Iris laughed.

World History was met with the groan of most of Miss Devereux's students due to the torture of the test giving out session. It was a regular event that the teacher loved to do to flaunt her power over them and show the "connection between the intelligence and embarrassment in the cruel outside world".

Every student was lined up against the back wall while Miss Devereux would call out the names of the low scorers who sat in the front row to the high scorers who sat in the back row.

This test had been a horrible surprise for everyone during the first lesson. Nicci was as startled as the people around her showing that there was no special treatment for even Miss Devereux's little sister.

Lydia settled herself along the back wall waiting for her name to be called. She watched as Iris and Wylan were called to the front row. Iris didn't try to hide her large sigh as she was placed third from last. Poor Iris wasn't very good at remembering things they had learnt the previous year.

Gradually, the line of students grew smaller. Nicci, Flynn, Jesper and Ronan left to fill a seat in the second row, two seats in the third row and a seat in the exclusive back row. Although Miss Devereux's face grew brighter for each student, Nicci did gain a dark glare.

Finally, only Kestrel and Lydia were left. Students that weren't disappointed in their scores or fiddling between the fine lines of questions for extra marks were looking expectantly at the two bright children, one that tried very hard and the other that was extremely lucky in her memory.

Miss Devereux carefully placed the two tests on the shared desk face down. Smiling mischievously, she sauntered back to her desk. The two girls exchanged looks before snatching at the tests they thought were theirs: the best one.

Kestrel managed to beat Lydia to in the little squabble. She wrinkled out the paper and looked at the name at the top.

"Ninety-two percent," she murmured. "Pretty good."

Lydia waited expectantly for her test, but instead Kestrel sat in the chair against the wall. Butterflies wriggled around Lydia's stomach. She had been beaten by a girl that didn't even try. Kestrel didn't even try to achieve the score that she got whereas Lydia had been studying over the summer on the information she had been bound to forgot without going over it.

Shamefully, Lydia sank into the seat of second in the class. She would've been very happy with it if Kestrel wasn't flicking through her test next to her. Jesper, who sat in front of them, turned around.

"Well done guys," he grinned.

"Thanks, Jes," Kestrel smiled back. "You did well too."

"Just luck to be honest," he laughed. "Who'd have known that the lowest agricultural output in Hungary was during 1952? I was very good at guessing."

Lydia felt her cheeks redden at this. She had known that the year had been 1952. She even knew the reason behind it was the Soviet Union requiring more grain. But a little piece of pride budded between the shame. Her intelligence was better than Jesper's. Maybe she was the best at something.

"I guess I'm lucky too then," Kestrel commented. "I knew it was around 1950 so I put that year down."

The new pride was quickly extinguished. The victory that should've been hers was teased in front of her eyes by Kestrel's know-it-all observations.

"Homework out class!" Miss Devereux called from the front of the room. "Slide it over to your partner and mark it with this success criteria."

Tick after tick littered Kestrel's rushed scribble that was meant to represent an essay that had been carefully planned. Lydia sadly circled an A in red ink.

* * *

Miss Abel wasn't just the teacher for drama. She also taught the mixed gender sports class. Her outfit that day consisted of pure sports clothes without even a hint of manic drama girl. Of course, her glasses counted as a necessity so the three glittery studs on each arm of the glasses didn't fall into the category of hipster.

Flynn and Ronan stood at the back of the group in the unfitted sports kits the school required them to wear. The only customisation allowed was with shoes. Ronan's were quite expensive and professional whereas Flynn's were old and worn out.

Flynn crossed his arms as the group of boys waited for the girls to finish getting changed which seemed to take twice as long the boys had. None of them could understand why.

Eventually, the girls wandered across the field led by Miss Abel. Nicci was skipping beside her with her mouth moving frantically. Neither of them seemed aware of the shivering boys standing in the growing cold.

"Alright guys!" Miss Abel called. "It's time for your favourite lesson of the day. Give me a lap of the football pitch and then we can get started!"

A collective moan escaped everyone, even the athletic Jesper, Wylan and Nicci. It wasn't long before Flynn and Ronan were near the back of the unfortunate runners. Both of them were close to the group, but far enough away to not be heard by the teenagers concentrating on blocking out their suffering.

"Ronan," Flynn breathed heavily. "You know Iris?"

"Yes," Ronan gasped. "What… about… her?"

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"There's… nothing… wrong with her."

They remained in silence for the rest of the jog except for the gasps escaping constantly from Ronan. When they stopped, the pain of no exercise for a couple of months caused them to have to stretch out the strain.

"I thought we would start easy," Miss Abel grinned at the remnants of what had been a healthy bunch of promising students. "A friendly tournament of footy sound good? Well, I don't need agreement from you."

The teacher explained the rules of football just in case anyone didn't know even though every person in England knew how to play the country's best sport. Nicci, Jesper and Wylan were picked as team captains.

The dreaded picked last situation was initiated. Flynn watched as the most sporty and friendly to the captains took a place in the elite area. Ronan shifted uncomfortably as the dregs of the sportingly-challenged were left.

It surprised everyone when Nicci made her fifth choice. Allie and Lilly were pointing at some of the relatively handsome boys and the other member was staring at his friend, pulling silly faces at everything around him. Although she was pressured by her team, Nicci chose Flynn.

"Flynn Minton," she smiled.

A falter in the chatter formed. Flynn blinked before realising his name had been called. He quickly went to his team in case Nicci decided that she was being silly for picking the boy that was usually last. The girl held up a hand which Flynn eyed wearily.

"It's a high five," Allie rolled her eyes.

Flynn nodded. He did know what a high five was obviously. Who didn't? Well, maybe Ronan, but he had grown up around normal kids. Flynn hit his hand against Nicci's. She smiled and turned back to the remaining students.

Ronan was swiftly picked by Jesper. He joined the line next to Flynn's and pretended to look sad.

"You got picked before me," he moaned in an extremely fake waver. "How could you be better than me?"

"Sorry about that," Flynn chuckled softly. "Nicci was very nice though. If she hadn't been the captain–"

"Oh stop beating yourself up," Ronan said. "You deserve to be in your position."

"Thanks," Flynn smiled back.

The football match was surprisingly intense. Wylan and Jesper's team ended in a free-for-all clash of limbs between the captains and a cautious Ronan. The captains tackled Ronan to the ground after their irritation of him being too nervous to kick the football.

"You kick it!" Wylan yelled.

"I've seen better goals scored by Lydia," Jesper bellowed. "No offensive Lydia, but I've seen better skills from her."

Jesper and Nicci's match had even more rule breaking than the last. Iris tried to act innocently as Allie and Lilly went flying to the ground on three separate occasions. In the end, Kestrel managed to trip her own team member earning a very confused Miss Abel to wonder whether to award a penalty to Kestrel and Iris' team or the other.

It came down to Wylan and Nicci's match. The other two games had ended in draws due to no one bothering to keep count of the valid goals and the sheer amount of obstructions and own goals.

Flynn stood to the far side of the pitch in a defender's position. He hadn't let Nicci down so far with his quick reflexes, but he wasn't keen to get stuck in the midst of the action. For most of the game, he was able to stood almost still away from the shouting and occasional swear word from Wylan.

Suddenly, Iris came running up the field with the football securely between her feet. She was coming straight in Flynn's direction and no one else was around him. The gleeful expression on Iris' face began to merge into spite as she gained speed. Reluctantly, Flynn prepared himself for the impact.

At the last second, Flynn decided that he didn't want to try to tackle Iris. He didn't want to reignite her temper from Friday. However, as he stepped slightly to the left so did Iris. Flynn's foot collided with the football causing it to fly across the pitch.

Cheers came from the crowd and Miss Abel. Iris blinked bewildered at Flynn. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Flynn smiled to himself as Ronan and a few other students who usually ignored him clapped his impressive move.

Nicci quickly ran to collect the football. She kicked it up the pitch, faked a shot at the right end of the goal causing the goalkeeper to fall and scored a goal in the opposite end. The final whistle blew as Jesper and Nicci's teams cheered for the winners.

"Yes Flynn!" Nicci yelled.

She jogged up to her team mate, holding out two flat hands. Knowing what to do this time, Flynn slapped his own into her hands. Nicci squealed in delight before skipping away.

Iris was still standing close to Flynn. Fuming was an understatement to how it looked like she was feeling. The burgundy hair had begun to escape from her ponytail which only gave her a wilder look. Slowly she walked up to Flynn and went on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.

"Everyone may be starting to like you, but you deserve it. Let me just remind you why not."

She bounced back onto her heels to allow herself to look at the horror and guilt Flynn was about to express.

"Eddie Miller."

* * *

 **And that's where I'm leaving it! Lots of people have asked for more information about the event so I decided to end that little cliffhanger which links the show and this story more.**

 **This chapter concentrated on Lydia and Flynn, but I tried to show elements of Jesper, Kestrel and Nicci as well. Ethereal skies asked for those three and Lydia to have more information about them revealed so I followed them this week. If there's anything or anyone you would like to see I'd be happy for the suggestions to improve this story.**

 **Also sorry this is up later than usual. I have no excuse :/**


	12. House of Encouragement

"One and two and three and four and five and…"

"Nicci."

"Six and seven and eight! One and…"

"Nicci!"

"Two and three and four…"

"Nicola Devereaux!"

The girl stumbled to a halt as her older sister stepped in her path. Her hands were on her hips which were covered by an expensive looking pencil skirt. Annoyance seeped from her eyes down at Nicci.

"Why didn't you stop when I asked?" Brooke questioned.

"I was busy," Nicci replied casually.

"Shouldn't you be busy studying instead? Dad won't be very pleased that you aren't getting good results. Less than fifty percent wasn't it?"

"Forty-eight," Nicci sulked.

Brooke sighed. She tucked a stray piece of dark brown hair, that was very similar to Nicci's, behind her ear. Her eyes closed heavily as Nicci watched her. She knew what was coming and it was always going to start with her birth name.

"Nicola…"

There it was.

"I know that you love dancing and art, but there are other important things as well. The arts didn't get me where I am today. My hard work and education did instead. This school is one of the best for being able to excel average people. They've turned so many people around. They can do it for you too.

"Father came here and so did Mr Sweet before he became headteacher. Even that drama teacher's family all came here. She was rough before she was set straight. If not, goodness knows how much more you would be neglecting your academics. Now go and study before I have to take you home myself."

"But I've almost worked out my enchaînement," Nicci mumbled like a child trying to squeeze out of punishment.

Brooke looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"It's a series of dance steps to go with my allegro."

The other eyebrow raised.

"It's a quick dynamic ballet routine. You should know what this means. It is French."

Brooke grimaced.

"Alright then," she sighed sitting down on one of the sofas the drama studio had.

"Alright what?" Nicci frowned.

"Let me see it then."

A surge of bubbles filled Nicci's insides. Her sister wanted to watch her dance? She hadn't wanted to do that since she had been picked to be the Sugarplum Fairy in a child's version of the Nutcracker. She had only been ten. Shortly after that her parents had stopped paying for her lessons.

Nicci knew, from that moment on, that her parents wished her to be as smart as her older sister, but as much as she tried the smarts never emerged. In her final year of primary school, Nicci concentrated on her work and only strayed from her education to paint. Her love of art was the only thing that had brought light to her days.

It had turned out that she was almost as good at painting as she was at dancing. Nicci sold her art at the school's Christmas fair and was shocked to discover they had helped to collect a sixth of the profit. The money she was able to earn from her art paid for Nicci's dancing lessons with her new teacher, Miss Francesca Abel.

Nicci stood in her opening position. She didn't have any music to keep a beat to so she knew she had to try even harder than usual. Her pointed foot tapped softly against the floor to her chosen beat. It was slower than what she was aiming for in the finished product, but it meant she was less likely to make a mistake.

She started off slowly. Each step was taken against two beats. First, Nicci moved gracefully. She bent her legs at every turn and sprung off her toes at every leap. The speed quickened as she reached the climax of the routine. Her knees bent ready for her tour en l'air when she slipped.

The move, which was meant to be a massive jump while turning in the air, was foiled by Nicci's ballet pump slipping along the shiny floor. She hit the ground with a dull thud. Her vision clouded at the shock and pain of what had happened. She had been working so hard. Why did that have to happen then?

Nicci heard her sister stand up from her seat. Her footsteps sounded at the same pace as they usually did. She was in no rush.

"Nicci," she whispered softly. "Get up and go home. You've practised enough for today."

Brooke walked away. Nicci watched from the ground. The sophisticated posture of the woman matched her delicate bun and coal black heels. Her red nail polish shimmered like the tears in Nicci's eyes. She let one or two drop from each eye before wiping them away.

Nicci stood up in wobbly legs and walked with as much dignity as she could.

"Shoulders back and bum in," Nicci's mother's voice echoed through her mind.

She instinctively followed the orders.

"Smile for me please, my little chick" Nicci's father's voice reverberated around her head.

Nicci was more than happy to show off her bright teeth. The groups of students that she passed in the corridor didn't stare at her like she expected them to. They didn't even know she was there.

A while later, Nicci opened the door to her bedroom. Iris wasn't there to glare at her for breaking the peace. Carefully, she shut the door behind her. The bright colours from her paintings greeted her, but her darker mood made her drift towards Iris' side of the room.

She sat on the cushy covers of her roommate's bed. Slowly, she reached for the alarm clock and altered its time. Five minutes. She set it back in its place before lying down on the bed. Her head rested against the mauve pillow. Sweat stuck to it, but she didn't care.

The tears were slow, but they were steady. They never took a break as they caressed Nicci's tender skin. There was no time to waste.

The alarm clock told Nicci when her time of grief was up. She hit it to the floor, which was the only way she knew to turn it off seeing as Iris did that every morning. She took her time remaking Iris' bed.

Nicci shuffled along the corridor to the other room. There wasn't any sound from inside. Quietly, she knocked. Something creaked. Taking a deep breath, Nicci put on her best smile and entered.

Lydia sat at her desk, looking around at Nicci. A pen was clutched in her hand.

"Hi Lydia," Nicci smiled. "Can you help me with some work I've been struggling with? I thought you'd know what to do."

Lydia's face brightened, causing goosebumps to flare up Nicci's arms. It was a joy to make someone smile.

* * *

Jesper sat up in bed, looking over at Wylan. It was early and near the end of the week, but Jesper couldn't sleep. He knew he should be exhausted after two weeks of hard school work. It was much harder than last year.

Slowly, Jesper shifted out of bed. His hand shuffled across his bedside table until he found his glasses. They were cold against his fingers. He slipped them onto the bridge of his nose. Soon he was fully dressed in his uniform excluding his blazer and socks.

A gust of air hit Jesper in the face as he opened his bedroom door. Someone seemed to have left a window open. The cool tiles against his bare feet told him that it had been open overnight.

Trudy was moving jars around in a cupboard when Jesper entered the kitchen. She was standing on a chair with her back to him.

"Morning, Trudy," he said.

She gave a little shriek of shock as her hand shot to her heart.

"Don't do that!" she scowled.

She wasn't frowning for more than five seconds though. Her motherly smile came back as quickly as lightning could strike.

"You're up early, sweetie," she commented. "Normally you aren't up for another twenty minutes."

"Couldn't sleep," Jesper shrugged. "Got any more of those amazing pancakes?"

"Not yet, but you can help me make them. Just let me put these away."

Jesper looked through all of the cupboards until he reached the last one and found what he'd been looking for. It always had to be the last one. Typical. A selection of different frying pans sat waiting to be used. Jesper picked the largest one and placed it on the stove.

The doorbell rang from the entrance hall. Trudy stepped down from her chair.

"I'll get that," she said. "I wonder if it's finally that delivery Victor wanted."

With nothing to do, Jesper walked aimlessly around the island in the centre of the kitchen. Some jars were still laid on the counter. They were mainly regular jams and peanut butters. However, there was one unusual label.

An opaque bottle had paper haphazardly coiled around it. Typed text and a scrawled handwriting both covered the label. Jesper picked it up to read it.

 _Iron supplements. Take 15mg twice a day for maximum effect. If dose is skipped, try to stay out of rigorous activity._

"What do you think you're doing?"

Jesper jumped. Trudy stood in the doorway with shock written across her face.

"Sorry," Jesper said. "I wasn't thinking."

"You weren't supposed to see that," Trudy mumbled. "You were _not_ meant to see that."

She quickly took the bottle from his hand and placed it as far back in the cupboard as she could. Jesper quietly passed her the rest of the jars. The cupboard was closed with a thud before the padlock was put back on.

"You don't tell anyone about this," Trudy said. "It isn't very serious so you shouldn't worry about it, but if anyone finds out…" She shook her head. "Poor Kestrel has enough on her plate."

"Kestrel?"

"Oh dear," Trudy placed her hands on her mouth. "You didn't know."

"No no no," Jesper stuttered. "It's fine. I… I promise not to tell anyone. I'm just surprised she didn't tell me."

"Lots of us are keeping secrets here, sweetie," she smiled. "Did you know that I've always wanted children, but I never could?"

"Trudy, I–"

"It's why I became a housemother. I'm much happier than I used to be."

They worked in silence after Trudy had expressed her hidden secret. Jesper turned a pancake over in the pan. It was stubborn at first, sticking to the bottom and refusing to shift, but it soon followed the movement of the spatula.

"I used to be overweight," Jesper said suddenly. "Got teased quite a bit, but I stopped. I started running with this girl. Michelle was her name. Don't know where she is now, but she was amazing."

"Good on you," Trudy smiled, hugging the tall boy. "And now you can eat these pancakes without having to worry."

Jesper laughed at this.

"Maybe you should find out how she is," Trudy suggested. "You've become such a likeable young man since you arrived here. She might be impressed by how you are now."

Jesper flipped the pancake over in the pan. He pretended to contemplate the idea, but he already knew the answer. He was too scared to try and think about what could happen.

"Maybe," he whispered. "Maybe…"

* * *

 **Poor Nicci and Jesper. :( As quite a few of you asked to know more about them, I decided to open some doors to the main characters' pasts.**

 **It's a shame that some people haven't remembered who Eddie is, but it may be because he wasn't in the first series. I haven't watched any of series three onwards due to it not being on Netflix so I understand. As a little reminder, he was Nina's Osirian (is that how you spell it?) and is Mr Sweet's son.**

 **Sorry I didn't update last week. I got a case of writer's block, but that hurdle has been crossed. Also after next Friday's update, it's unlikely that I will be able to upload until near the end of August due to going to Florida. :D and ): at the same time.**


	13. House of Illness

Rain was so irritating. It wasn't heavy enough to create a cosy atmosphere in the classroom or light enough to walk anywhere without darkening people's clothes. It just existed. The rain sloshed against the windowpane where Iris was sitting. Wylan watched her draw in the glass. The smiley face squeaked as it was being created.

Wylan turned back to his work. In front of him was an almost blank page. Next to him Jesper had almost finished his second. Moaning, Wylan put his head in his hands.

"What is it, Wailer?" Jesper asked.

"Don't call me that," Wylan mumbled through his hands.

"I can call you whatever I want," Jesper grinned. "Now tell me what's wrong."

"I think there's something wrong with me."

"Don't we all?"

"Ha ha," Wylan said sarcastically, hitting his best friend lightly on the arm. "But seriously, there's like this shiver that goes down my back now and again and it won't go away."

"Oh," Jesper frowned. "Maybe you should go to Trudy about that."

"Mr Peters, Mr Hawthrone," Mrs Andrews called from the front of the room. "Please continue writing your notes."

"Yes, miss," the boys droned the expected answer.

"Miss!" Lydia put her hand up.

"Yes, Lydia," Mrs Andrews said. "What is it?"

"I've finished."

"Oh, really? Have you read it over?"

"Yep."

"Right. Then I guess you should just bring it over here."

Wylan watched as the sweet girl placed her essay on the teacher's desk. She seemed to take a long time walking back to her desk with a sickly smile on her face.

"Annoying little swot," he muttered to himself.

Kestrel got up almost immediately after Lydia sat down. She hurried to the front and placed it on top of Lydia. Wylan watched as over the next ten minutes most people placed their essays on Mrs Andrews' desk. Even Iris forced herself to walk the route almost everyone had walked.

Eventually Wylan was one of the last writing. A tiny crowd of people were taking advantage of Mrs Andrews being engrossed in her marking and had created a little circle around Wylan's desk.

"You spelt 'their' wrong," Lydia pointed to a line close to the beginning of Wylan's work. "It's spelt t-h-e-i-r, not t-h-e-r-e."

"Thanks," Wylan mumbled.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wylan could see Lydia's cheeks flush. He loved the way that she became so nervous around him. Now and again she pointed to another word that was spelt wrong and Wylan would correct it.

Eventually, Wylan passed Lydia a pencil for her to cross out a whole sentence that didn't "fit the tone of the essay". As Lydia worked, Wylan turned around to watch Iris again. She was nodding to whatever Kestrel was talking about, but she seemed to be in a world of her own creation. Her eyes stared dreamily out into the drizzle that couldn't even be called rain.

A chill raced across Wylan's back. It was the same as before! He had felt it last Friday and now it was haunting him again. Its dance was comforting against his skin, but deeply unnerving at the same time.

"It's doing it again," Wylan whispered to Jesper.

"What is?"

"The feeling I've been getting."

"When did it start?" Jesper asked curiously.

"Just now."

Jesper followed his friend's line of sight to where Iris was sitting. His eyes widened in realisation.

"Ah," he breathed.

"What?" Wylan asked worried.

"I'm sorry, Wailer," Jesper said with over the top heartbreak in his voice. "I really am sorry. But there is nothing I can do. You're under the curse of Iris Greyson."

"No!" Wylan shook his head. "Just no."

"I know what you mean," Iris suddenly said.

Everyone paused to look over at Iris. Wylan was the first to break the eerie silence.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"I said I know what you mean about the rain," Iris said with the same bored tone.

"We didn't say anything about the rain," Jesper frowned, looking around the room.

Everyone shook their heads. Iris got up from her seat by the window and turned towards the group. Her eyes widened as she concentrated on something behind Wylan's shoulder. Wylan looked behind him, but nothing was there.

"I think… I'm feeling a little bit sick," Iris murmured. "I need to go to the toilets."

Iris walked out of the room without glancing at anyone else, not even Mrs Andrews to tell her where she was going.

"Get well soon," Flynn called to her.

Iris' shoulders hunched before she turned right. Everyone in the circle turned to Flynn. He sighed and turned back to Ronan who was sitting next to him. Lines were developing under his eyes that Wylan had never noticed before. He quickly passed it off though.

Proudly, Wylan walked to the front of the room to place his essay on top of the bulging pile of papers. Mrs Andrews pursed her lips.

"About time," she tutted. "Please tell me that Lydia didn't help you."

"Of course she didn't," Wylan lied smoothly. "This is all my personal creation."

"Why do students never tell the truth when I give them an opportunity?" Mrs Andrews sighed.

Maybe he hadn't lied as smoothly as he believed he had. The bell saved his life for the tenth time that week. Everyone began to pack away as Mrs Andrews tried (and failed) to set homework above the noise.

Kestrel passed Wylan on the way out of the classroom.

"Any idea where Iris could have gone?" she asked.

"Toilets?" Wylan shrugged.

"Thanks."

She wandered off to where Iris was probably feeling sick. She could have collapsed on the floor without anyone realising.

"Tell me how she is," Wylan found himself shouting after Kestrel.

The shiver jumped across Wylan's spine again. Gritting his teeth, he shook it off.

* * *

Iris made sure that the toilets were completely empty before she turned to the girl sitting next to the sink. It had been a week since she had seen the pearly glow that half confused her, half fascinated her.

"Rain is so annoying," the ghost girl sulked.

Her fingers touched the tap of the sink. Iris slowly walked over to her. She was unsure on whether to speak out loud to her. What if someone walked in and thought she was crazy? What if she was crazy? Ghosts weren't real.

"How does this work?" the girl asked.

Iris pushed down the tap in answer. A sparkle erupted behind the girl's cloudy eyes.

"Clever," she smiled. "So so clever. We only had turny taps when I was here."

"You came to this school?" Iris whispered. "Did you become a ghost here?"

"Don't use the g word!" the girl cried out.

Iris winced and quickly checked the door. No one seemed to be coming after the loud scream.

"I'm sorry," Iris whispered. "What are you then?"

"I'm a spirit," the girl said, flecking her fingers. "No hurting coming from me. You can call me Twyla. I thought long and hard and that name is the prettiest I can think of. Not as pretty as the flower though."

"Twyla," Iris breathed.

"Just like the stars."

The girl rested her head against the tiled wall. Through the mist she was made of, Iris could make out the green sticker she had placed on the wall last week. It was starting to peel off, but Twyla didn't seem to notice or care.

"Can you hear the voices?" Twyla asked.

"What voices?" Iris whispered.

"Behind the wall."

Iris moved forward to where Twyla was sitting. Cautiously, she placed her eye against the tiles, but she couldn't hear anything. Twyla closed her eyes intently. Her lips moved slowly.

"I can't hear anything."

"Predator," Twyla murmured. "They're talking about my predator."

"Your predator?" Iris wondered. "Who's your predator?"

Twyla suddenly lurched away from the wall. Her eyes widened and she began to rock back and forth. The spirit shook against her gossamer dress with either fear or shock or all of them mixed together.

Iris had never expected the girl to look so scared. She had been so happy to see her in the attic and, even though she had been sobbing, she had never looked frightened by anything.

"Twyla, what is it?" Iris asked in her normal voice. "What did you hear?"

"They want to hurt my predator. They want to hurt him."

Twyla tried to grab Iris, but she stopped herself just in time.

"No," she whispered with wavy eyes, "no touching. Sorry. No touching."

"It's okay," Iris comforted the girl. "It's not your fault."

"I just haven't touched someone for so long," Twyla sighed.

"Okay, that sounds kind of creepy if you haven't heard the rest of this conversation."

"Thank you?" Twyla said uncertain.

"That was a joke," Iris grimaced. "You're like my granddad. He never gets any of my jokes."

"Oh!" Twyla said wide eyed.

She smiled showing shiny teeth that were perfectly straight. Then she opened her mouth and out came her bell like laugh. It was angelic. Iris felt herself laughing along with the spirit. It was so relaxing to be around Twyla.

Suddenly her necklace began to shine with her giggles. She didn't notice as the purple shone against the mist that made up Twyla. But Twyla did. Her laugh faltered as she stared at it.

"So pretty," she whispered. "Happy happy crystal."

"Iris?"

The student slowly closed her eyes in embarrassment. Kestrel stood frowning behind her. She held a small first aid kit in her right hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "I thought you were really sick."

"The bird lies," Twyla hissed.

"I was," Iris said. "Or at least I thought I was. I'm fine now."

"Right…" Kestrel cocked her head to the side. "I'll just leave this first aid kit here then. I'm sure that whatever you were laughing about is more important than me."

Kestrel turned to leave. Iris quickly grabbed her arm before she could reach the door.

"I swear that I am ill," Iris said urgently. "I think that I…"

Iris swallowed back her words. She thought what? That a spirit was talking to her about things that didn't make sense and only she could see and hear her? That sounded crazy. She couldn't tell Kestrel that.

"Iris, you can tell me anything," Kestrel said.

No, she couldn't!

"I'll believe anything you say."

No, she wouldn't!

"Please don't tell her."

Twyla jumped down from the sink where she had been sitting. Her cloudy eyes widened in terror. She shook her head causing her perfect curls to sway with her. Iris' heart tugged against her ribcage, trying to decide. Her best friend or the girl only she could see?

"I think that I just haven't had enough sleep."

Kestrel raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Really," Iris nodded.

"Well," Kestrel sighed, "just get some more sleep."

She left with the first aid kit slumped in her hand.

"The bird loses its prey," Twyla muttered.

Iris turned around to the girl, but she had gone. The only thing left was the water filtering through the drain.

* * *

 **And that's the last chapter for about a month. Yay! (Kind of... never mind) Now I need some sleep before I have a very long plane journey.**

 **This story hit 1000 views this week and I am so thankful. Everyone that has reviewed/followed/favorited this story has been so lovely and I am so happy that you have enjoyed this story so far. I promise that more drama is on the way as well as more links to the show's past/this story's future... stuff that happens in Nina's time.**

 **While I'm on holiday I won't be able to answer pm's at my usual speed and it will probably take a couple of days longer than usual. This is repeated in my profile in case you forget as well as the date that I come back.**

 **Next chapter on the last Friday of August :)**


	14. House of Crystals

"Do you know what would be an excellent idea?" Iris said one night, placing one of the now clean dishes on the sideboard. "A dishwasher."

Kestrel flicked through her magazine with a "hmm". She heard Iris stack another dish on the side, although it sounded more like she dropped it on there. A couple of bubbles clumped together flew from the sink onto the table where Kestrel was trying to understand the difference between cheap clothes and expensive clothes. They looked identical to her.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am," Kestrel said. "You were saying that it was an excellent idea to waste hundreds of pounds on a dishwasher."

"We could persuade Victor, couldn't we? You always have such good ideas."

"Put it in the suggestion box," Kestrel repeated the catchphrase she had been saying on loop to everyone for the last week.

Iris giggled, but it seemed delayed to Kestrel's ears. She reasoned that it was probably her hearing.

To her irritation, Kestrel felt bubbles begin to settle in her hair. She turned around in her chair to narrow her eyes at Iris. Blowing the bubbles off her hand into the empty space next to her, Iris smiled and continued to chuckle.

A few seconds later Wylan crept up on her. He scooped up a handful of bubbles from the sink. Kestrel quickly darted to the other side of the living room to avoid the mess that was going to be impossible to stop.

After settling herself on the arm of the sofa, she gave a thumbs up to Wylan. He proceeded to dump the bubbles onto Iris' head. She squealed with fright which (very conveniently) covered up the words spewing from her fork-tongued mouth.

Suddenly, Kestrel felt herself begin to slouch. Her energy left her quicker than it would've if she had started to sprint. It was time for her daily medicine. However, instead of going to the kitchen where Iris and Wylan were laughing as if they were an old married couple, she walked upstairs.

She was only halfway up when she paused. Had she just thought that Wylan and Iris looked like they were in a relationship? Her brain really was going fuzzy.

Checking that there was no one in the girls' corridor, Kestrel closed the door to her bedroom. She dived under her bed and pushed numerous boxes out of the way. At the back, a white jewellery box was covered in a thin layer of dust.

It took two minutes to persuade the box to move from its hiding place with a chain of coat hangers. After Iris had almost revealed what was inside, Kestrel didn't want anyone else to see it.

Slowly, she lifted the lid. Inside was the most precious thing she owned. Her fingers curled around it as she took it out. The familiar warmth stroked against her hands. The scarlet crystal shone with the same beauty it always did.

"Do I use you again?" she whispered. "Or do I wait?"

The only thing the crystal did was shine in her eyes. Kestrel blinked rapidly before realising she wasn't going to achieve anything by just blinking. After feeling her energy return to her, she placed it back in the box, but continued to watch it.

"Mum would know what to do," she told herself. "If only I could see her again."

Kestrel closed her eyes. As soon as she did, her mum's face appeared in front of her as bright as her crystal. Even though she had been close to forty when she left, her mum's freckles made her look young and carefree. Kestrel didn't care that it was probably only her imagination making her mum look happy and beautiful. She knew that it was what she should look like.

Grass sprouted around them as daises poked their heads bravely around the mother and daughter. Kestrel could remember this. They were in the pub garden of the Rose and Crown. Her dad and Ebony would be arriving soon.

Her mum allowed Kestrel to lay on her lap while she traced circles on her auburn hair causing a tingling to spring into action. Occasionally she would stop to take a sip from her beer bottle, but Kestrel didn't mind. She had her own lemonade bottle in front of her. The greens of the bottles matched each other and were slightly darker than the grass.

Hell erupted quickly from inside their heaven. The memory was consumed quickly. Ebony was arguing with her dad. Mum was arguing with Ebony. Kestrel was hiding inside while peeking through the window. Her left knee twitched violently as Ebony stormed past her and left.

Something creaked outside. Kestrel quickly opened her eyes. She noticed that her knee wasn't just twitching in the pub, but also in her bedroom. She rested a hand on it to steady herself.

The door handle began to turn. Kestrel's reflexes kicked in as she flipped the lid shut and kicked the box under the bed. Lydia walked in with three large textbooks in her arms. She walked over to her desk without sparing a glance at Kestrel.

It took two minutes to stop her knee from hurting. After that, she was able to stand. She knew that she needed to have her allocated-by-a-professional medicine. Forcing herself downstairs to find Trudy, Kestrel thought to herself.

What should she do? Should she ask Iris again? She had obviously been close to admitting the truth in the toilets, but something had stopped her. Maybe she could try to persuade her. After all, it was for Iris' own good.

"Stop it," Kestrel muttered to herself. "You are not forcing your best friend to do _anything_ , Kestrel Brekker. You'll have to let her come out on her own. Soon, she'll realise that she will need help with her own crystal."

Soon…

* * *

If there was one thing Ronan was an expert in, it was stargazing. When someone pointed at a star and luck was on his side to push the clouds out of the way, he could name which constellation it belonged to. Any star, any time of year, any place in England. Ronan was proud to boast about it sometimes.

Flynn helped him to pick up the telescope from the living room to the lawn in front of Anubis House. It was heavier than they remembered. With huffing from Ronan and not a single grunt from Flynn, they were able to place it in its usual place.

Ronan wiped the sweat away from his forehead.

"That should do," he sighed. "Thank you, Flynn."

"No problem," Flynn smiled. "It looks like a clear night."

"And a full moon."

Ronan moved the telescope up to where the moon was cradled amongst the stars. Small craters made it seem as if it could be inhabited, but Ronan knew better than that. He wasn't a seven year old child who read 'Mr Muddles Goes to the Moon' anymore.

Flynn yawned, not bothering to stifle it.

"It's been a long day," he mumbled. "I'm going to get ready for bed."

"Good night," Ronan said, not looking away from his telescope.

As he turned the dial that adjusted the blurriness, Ronan noticed something strange about the moon. There were long lines that he'd never seen before. They almost seemed like smudges.

When Ronan moved his fingers against the lens to try and clear them, he felt the scratches carved there. Quickly, he began to adjust his vision until he could read the message on the lens with the light of the moon reflected from the sun.

"Unleash the power, light your way. Find the demisphere hidden below," Ronan read clearly. "Well, that's a rubbish poem. It doesn't even rhyme."

"I know."

Ronan hit the telescope as he jumped at the voice. It spun around and almost hit him in the face twice. A muscular hand grabbed it as it spun around for the third time without any effort.

"You are too good at the sneaking up at people thing," Ronan said, trying to shake off the fact that he'd stupidly shouted like a damsel in distress from a fairytale.

"I would've thought you'd have noticed that by now."

Rufus adjusted the telescope so that it was facing the moon again. His leather jacket creased as it followed the body of the instrument up towards the sky.

"I've come to talk to you, Ronan," Rufus said, "about our agreement."

"I already talked to you early on Thursday morning," the boy scowled. "It was a miracle I didn't wake up Flynn although Trudy told me off for letting a draft through the house. She said I forgot to shut the back door when she caught me coming back in."

"That was careless," Rufus tutted.

"But I didn't leave it open!"

"The getting caught bit."

Ronan shut his mouth. Rufus did have a point.

"Do you have any information?"

"Definitely," Ronan grinned.

Rufus smiled back. It filled Ronan with a kind of pride to see him pleased with his answer.

"Iris Greyson has been wearing a purple crystal around her neck all the time since I first talked to you. She was acting very strangely as well. Flynn says she slapped Wylan across the face. I do wish that I had been there to witness it."

"Who's that?" Rufus asked curiously.

"The girl that has burgundy hair. You can't miss her. I've been meaning to ask her about that hear for years," Ronan began to go off on a tangent.

"So this Iris has it," Rufus murmured to himself. "That explains a lot. We'll have to be more careful next time."

"Next time?" Ronan repeated. "You agreed to tell me everything if I was to assist you."

"I can't tell you everything," Rufus grinned. "It's like… it's like piling the formula to create a car inside your head. Your uninformed brain wouldn't know how to shape the information in a way to understand it. That or you come to the conclusion that I'm a wizard."

Ronan nodded. It made sense, but there was something not quite right with how Rufus had said it. He'd rushed his last sentence out with almost forced laughter, but he didn't notice.

"The good kind or the bad kind?" Ronan said as jokingly as he could.

"The evil kind of course," Rufus smiled.

Laughing louder than he was meant to, Ronan felt a hand cover his mouth. Although Rufus was pressing down quite hard, he was chuckling too. It was strange and low, but Ronan didn't notice. He was thrilled. Someone understood his sense of humour!

"At least you have a nose," Ronan mumbled through the hand.

"What?" Rufus frowned.

"I said at least…"

"Yes yes yes, I heard what you said."

Okay, maybe he was pushing it a bit.

"Sorry," he muttered. "So, if I find out what the crystal is doing to Iris, how should I tell you?"

"I'll be around," Rufus smiled. "If anything goes seriously wrong and they need help, don't worry. Someone at the school is always looking out for you."

Ronan nodded. It was good to know that Rufus wasn't the only adult looking into this. When Rufus had met him early in the morning, he had explained much more than Ronan was expecting. He had believed the death-threatening Victor was exaggeration, but now he wasn't as sure.

"I'm trying to help you," Rufus had said, "before Victor hurts you all."

According to Rufus' knowledge, Victor was planting objects that "caused the brain to act strangely" on the students of Anubis House. He hadn't explained what they did, but he said that if they were near someone for a long time that they would begin to become hooked on them, and in extreme cases, reliant.

Ronan smiled to himself, feeling giddy at the opportunity that had been placed in front of him. He was helping someone investigate an almost magical event. Perhaps he could even help his friends. Perhaps they would even _allow_ him to call them friends.

* * *

 **And the month wait is over! Sorry again for the _long_ gap, but (on the bright side) Florida was awesome. I even managed not to get burnt with factor 50+ sun cream. **

**Thank you for all of your wonderful and supportful comments. I do pay attention to them: LifeisBeautiful17's comment was the reason I included Ronan's POV this chapter. Also, I'm not breaking Kestrel's character. She wasn't lying... entirely. Basically can't say, but I'm not going away from the characters' personalities unless I slip up (which is probably going to happen at some point).**

 **Also, I know that some characters haven't been concentrated on as much like Lydia, Flynn, Jesper and Nicci, but they all have important parts to play (such as Lydia's main arc of this story starting properly next chapter).**

 **See you next week!**


	15. House of Feelings

Lydia fiddled with the locker door while trying to balance two textbooks and her art sketchbook. It wasn't a surprise when she dropped her books and keys at almost the same time.

Sighing, she bent down to pick up her belongings. However, someone else also crouched to pick them up. Lydia's hand touched them as she grabbed the sketchbook. She looked up and felt her heart leap high enough to touch the stars.

Wylan grinned at her with those amazing teeth as he flicked the sketchbook in a way that made it stop only a centimetre from Lydia's nose while it was still between his thumb and forefinger. His brown hair was the same mess as usual which made Lydia want to push it to the side.

"Your sketchbook?" he said.

"Th… thank you," Lydia managed to stutter.

She took it numbly. His fingers were so close to hers.

"You're welcome. Need help with anything else?"

He was so kind to her. Lydia bit her lip and hummed to herself, pretending to be uncertain. In reality, her heart was screaming to say yes, yes, yes.

At that moment, Kestrel and Iris marched past them. Their mouths were moving, but Lydia couldn't hear what they were saying. They stopped taking as they caught sight of Lydia and Wylan.

"Iris," he greeted.

Iris didn't stop to acknowledge him. Kestrel mouthed a "sorry" before rushing into the classroom after her friend.

"Great," Wylan groaned. "She still hates me. I don't even know what I did wrong."

Lydia felt herself droop. If she had ears they would've flopped or if she had a tail it would've stopped wagging. Wylan was looking at the classroom door, almost desperately. She knew that look. She wore it every time she was near him.

"It was… probably because of the way you were talking to her," Lydia said.

"The way I talked to her?" Wylan repeated incredulously. "What did I say?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I was… busy in my room."

"Busy with what?" Wylan sounded puzzled. "Surely you were having a fun time at the party."

"I need to get to class," Lydia said quickly.

She rushed into the classroom, ignoring Wylan's shout of something about her locker. Nothing about her locker mattered now. After placing her bag under the seat next to the best in the class, Lydia closed her eyes.

She had embarrassed herself, again. Why was she always so nervous around him? It was normal for her to be shy around everyone, but Wylan was different. It would be a sin to even stutter in front of him. And then he had probed her about the night of the party. She didn't want to talk about what Flynn could do to her. They had agreed never to talk about what he could do.

The worst part had been when Iris sauntered past. He had ignored her so easily as his eyes had watched Iris. She needed to be able to show Wylan that she was as good as that Iris.

After a torturous lesson of Miss Devereux gushing over Kestrel's irritating photographic memory and not praising Lydia a single time, the class wandered to the drama studio. The sofas had new fluffy cushions that sparked her joy a tiny bit. She placed herself on the edge of the green sofa and clutched a blue and grey striped cushion.

Eventually, everyone settled down as Miss Abel strode in across the stage. Lydia always wondered why she chose to enter that way. She guessed it was because she kept her office hidden in the wings or maybe it was just for dramatic effect.

"Morning guys," she cried, jumping off the stage with a thud.

There was a melancholy rumble of "morning miss". The teacher tutted before starting on a lecture about what a hamartia was. Lydia decided to zone out. She knew this already. A hamartia was a fatal flaw found in the protagonist that leads to their downfall. It originated from Ancient Greece and it was very common in Shakespearean tragedies such as Macbeth and his…

Lydia stopped her dictionary definition and exam perfected monologue. No wonder people wouldn't talk to her if she knew nothing except the definitions

"Before we leave, I've been elected to arrange the clubs and extra-curricular activities, because I'm the only teacher with the 'fun' subjects," Miss Abel air quoted while rolling her eyes. "So then, any ideas?"

Lydia looked around expectantly. The class sat in silence. Half of them looked bored, like Iris and Ronan, whereas others avoided eye contact with Miss Abel as if they would be asked to embarrass themselves by suggesting something, like Jesper and Kestrel.

"Well I'm very glad I asked this class," she remarked. "Come on! Some of you must have ideas. Sport, education, art, cooking, book club, conspiring about how to prank your mortal enemy, anything that takes your interest!"

Nicci sighed before putting her hand in the air.

"Yes Nicci," Miss Abel smiled, jumping at the opportunity

"I know that it's not a new club, but the dance group hasn't arranged its first meeting yet. So I guess it counts as new for this year?"

She finished the sentence like a question as if she wasn't sure on what she saying. However, Miss Abel nodded enthusiastically, her blonde hair bobbing with her head.

"Dancing is an excellent form of exercise. I definitely recommend it to anyone that wants to learn more about their body, improve their rhythm or just have fun."

She scribbled it down on her clipboard.

"Okay, Nicci, you can go."

Nicci slung her bag over her shoulder smugly like a favourite child being allowed the last cookie from the plate at Christmas. A series of complaints followed Nicci's exit.

"Well, you should've come up with some ideas then," Miss Abel smiled mischievously. Sometimes it looked like she enjoyed her position a little too much.

"Redo the football try-outs," Wylan shouted out. "Our team is absolutely…" he paused to try to think of a word that was allowed, but failed.

"Alright then," the teacher murmured while jotting down the suggestion. "Wylan may leave."

As Wylan stood up to leave, Lydia had a fleeting spur of courage and an idea. She lifted her hand in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wylan look surprisingly at her. He was noticing her.

"Lydia, right?" Miss Abel frowned. "What have you got to suggest?"

"I was wondering whether we could start a chess club?" she said.

"That's actually a pretty reasonable idea. Well done, Lydia."

A sense of pride flooded the girl. She couldn't help but look to her right to check how Wylan had reacted to her idea.

He was sniggering. He was laughing at _her_.

She bowed her head slightly. The noise reverberated around the room, making her feel small. Jesper kicked Wylan, but the only regret he showed was the pain in his face from the hit.

* * *

Glasses were irritating things Jesper concluded as they fell off his nose for the fourth time that day. He looked across the floor for any blurry item that represented the shape of them in some way, but the only thing he could find was someone's lost shoelace (how they lost a shoelace he didn't know).

Eventually he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey Jesper," said the girl. "You dropped your glasses again."

"Thanks," he said, turning blindly towards the girl.

He was about to grab them before the girl pulled them away.

"Uh uh uh," she said in a sing song voice. "You have to remember my name first."

Oh boy, not this again. Ever since he had decided to leave the stubble that had started to grow on his chin, the girls at the school had started talking to him more and more often. It wasn't a big difference to before. He had plenty of friends that were girls, but this was different.

"Allie?" he guessed.

"Nope."

"Lily?"

"Nuh uh."

"I don't know. Amy? Martha? Clara?"

"You're just guessing now."

What was he doing before then?

"Ok, I give up."

"I'm Ruth, obviously."

"Obviously," Jesper smiled sarcastically.

However, _Ruth_ didn't seem to notice the sarcasm dripping off his tongue. She handed him back his glasses. After putting them on, he saw the girl's appearance without the blurry blobs of colour. She had her black hair tied in a plait that loosely hung over her left shoulder. She wore her uniform in the usual expected manner and had the same makeup choice as almost every girl he had ever met.

Basically, no one special.

"Thank you."

"No problem, Wonderboy."

"Only Wylan calls me that," Jesper frowned.

"And me too," Ruth smiled showing her braces.

Jesper walked in the other direction even though it practically meant going in a circle to reach his world history lesson. At least he wouldn't have to be in a classroom with Miss Devereux as long.

When Jesper turned into the corridor of the classroom, he spotted Wylan and Lydia talking at their lockers. He smiled. Lydia looked like she was enjoying herself and relaxing around Wylan for once.

He was about to walk over to them when Kestrel and Iris walked past him. They were chatting to each other until Iris spotted Wylan. She immediately fell silent. Jesper frowned. It looked like Iris was still ignoring Wylan after the incident.

His frown deepened as he noticed Lydia's sad face. She muttered something before running off.

"You forgot about your locker!" Wylan shouted after her.

Shrugging, Wylan began to open his locker. Jesper didn't realise that he was cringing until he rubbed his hands against his face. This was going to be an interesting conversation.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Wylan with a cross between frown and a smile.

"Wailer!" he called over cheerfully.

"Hey Wonderboy," Wylan murmured without turning from his locker.

Jesper's enthusiastic exterior faltered at the word. It sounded different when it wasn't just a friendly nickname anymore.

"What was that with you and Lydia just now?" he asked, leaning against a closed locker.

"Nothing much."

"Nothing much?" Jesper scoffed. "Didn't look like 'nothing much'."

Wylan slammed his locker door, grumbling under his breath.

"It's nothing, okay!" he snapped. "Now I need to get to class."

"Oh God," Jesper swore. "I never thought I'd hear the day when Wylan Peters wanted to go to class and Miss Devereux as well! Someone turning a bit academic like little Lydia, huh?"

"No way am I becoming like Lydia," Wylan laughed as they began to walk. "She's so dull and pretentious."

"Pretentious? Really?"

"Have you seen the way she always talks to me? She thinks that she can talk to whoever she likes."

Jesper had had enough. He stood in front of the doorway, forcing Wylan to stop.

"Come on. Let me through," Wylan grumbled.

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"You and Lydia. You don't even realise how you're talking to her."

"What?" Wylan frowned.

"Have you even noticed the way she's looks at you? She likes you in a pretty serious way and you're pushing her around. You need to be careful with her."

"She likes me?" Wylan asked surprised. He quickly composed himself by pushing his hair back with his hand. "Probably cause of my good looks."

"I'm serious, Wailer," Jesper said exasperated. "You can't toy with her heart like you are already. And I know that you know what it feels like."

Wylan narrowed his eyes. Biting his lip, Jesper decided to admit that Wylan was an open book.

"Iris," he whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

Rolling his eyes, Wylan pushed past Jesper. Shocked at the force, Jesper fell against the door at an odd angle. He landed against the handle causing a sharp pain to shoot across his back. Scowling, he looked over at Wylan. He was innocently unpacking his bag for the lesson. It didn't seem like he was going to be a quick learner.

* * *

 **Honestly I have no excuse for not updating last week and I'm sorry. Also I have some relatively bad news. I'm now updating every two weeks for numerous reasons, but number one would be school work. In the UK the most important year is Year 11 for 15/16 year olds where you get tested on EVERYTHING we've learnt for the last five years! Basically it decides where you go to school the next year, your university, your job and your likelihood of getting certain things in life.**

 **I've decided that's more important but I promise to update every two weeks. (Well semi-promise). Thank you for your patience and persistence in choosing to continue reading this story. I didn't believe I would get such lovely reviews and followers and it makes me very happy!**


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